Fire and Time
by RomanceQueen11
Summary: Santana Lopez has spent 3 years climbing the literary ladder with her prized book series: The Elizabeth Jones Story, but when tragedy strikes she puts the books, as well as her life, on hold. While digging herself into what her friends claim is an early grave she meets Brittany Pierce, local bartender, and she begins to wonder if she can put her life back together before too late.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Hey everyone! It's been a really long time since I've written a fic but recently I couldn't stop reading them so I decided to take a jab at writing again. I got inspiration for this fic by reading Room 47 and Mischances, Stances, and Stolen Glances - I recommend those btw . This fic is AU, set in California. What to note about this fic is that there are subplots that are kind of "Valentine's Day" "New Years Eve" ish, which means that it all ties into each other in the end. All places that are used in this fic are strictly fictional - unless there are places with these names somewhere then that's really awesome! I'm always open for reviews, PMs, and comments or suggestions, if any. It was eating away in my head for a few days and I realized if I didn't write it down my head might explode. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and that we'll travel this awesome journey together with these characters in the future.

* * *

_**Fire & Time**_

Chapter 1

...

**LA, California – 2011**

It was unbelievably hot for it to be considered Fall, then again this _was_ LA. Something Santana Lopez should've been used to since she lived in the sunny palms of California for close to seven years. Nonetheless, she wiped the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and sighed to herself as her heels clicked against the concrete sidewalk underneath her. She was coming back from another failed attempt of finding the right book cover for her second novel. It was becoming all too tedious for the toned female and she was sure her jet black hair was going to show a few gray strands sooner or later as she dealt with the stress of her editors and the lack of common knowledge from her publishers. She shook her head trying to rid herself of the thought of having to go to another meeting; she was starting not to care anymore.

The only good thing about today was her lunch date with her girlfriend, Valerie. They had been together three years this Thursday and Santana was excited, to put it calmly, that she was going to finally ask Valerie to marry her. Running a hand through her locks, she paused at a car's side mirror to adjust her lipstick accordingly, blowing a kiss at the mirror before walking onwards towards the small corner restaurant. She entered, looking around the crowded area, though she was sure Valerie was seated at their usual spot and sure enough as her deep brown eyes found tranquil hazel ones, she was right.

"Hey you." Santana greeted her girlfriend once she had made her way over. She kissed her lips lightly and placed her purse, that had been weighing down her right shoulder, onto the chair beside her.

"Hey yourself." Valerie's soft voice echoed into Santana's ears and she sighed into the familiar sound. She definitely needed a drink, and a little bit more, after the meeting she just encountered. "Rough day?" The chocolate female questioned, arching a curious brow noticing her girlfriend slump into the comfortable cushion of the chair.

"Don't get me started. I just want the perfect book cover. Everything has to be perfect for this release. My fans are counting on me."

Valerie smirked opening her menu, "Oh yes, the fans." She replied without looking up from her menu with a devious grin on her lips as she eyed the drink section, though she knew what she wanted.

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Santana questioned, slightly annoyed, pulling the menu down to look at Valerie's face.

She shook her head and placed the menu down, folding her hands on the table, "Nothing baby." She smiled, "But, you realize you're just stressing yourself out more than you should, right? I mean, I understand you want everything to be perfect for the release and I _do_ understand that your fans mean a lot to you but I'm more than sure that whatever book cover you see fit will be fine." Santana rolled her eyes and sighed, she always hated how easy Valerie saw things.

"I hate you."

"I love you too." Valerie stated simply, picking her menu back up and eying the drinks, "You need something to calm your nerves. Your usual won't do today. Plus, I have my own news you may need a drink or two for."

Santana arched an eyebrow, pulling the menu down once more, "What news?"

"Patience." Valerie said simply flicking Santana's hand off the menu as she eyed it settling on an appletini for San and water for herself.

Santana noticed the drink change as Valerie usually ordered a gin and tonic and they ate their pasta, salad, and breadsticks conversing over everything under the sun, however, today was different. The waiter took their order and the conversation between them was reserved if any. Valerie was tapping her foot against the floor and Santana was looking around the environment questioning how she never noticed the cracked ceilings and ugly carpeting before. Once their meal and their drinks were nearly gone, Santana couldn't hold in the silence any longer.

"Okay, what's going on?" Santana questioned as Valerie sipped on her water through her straw, bending it as she usually did between her teeth for that weird sucking sound effect that Santana used to find annoying but grew to enjoy.

"What do you mean?" She placed the water down and stared at her girlfriend with slight amusement.

"Don't do that. What is the news? You're killing me here. The silence is so damn loud, I swear I'm about to…"

"Alright, alright. Relax." Valerie interrupted with a smile, biting down on her lip to look into chocolate brown eyes and melting into them. "San… I'm… I'm pregnant."

Santana opened her mouth to speak but no words would come out. They had tried so long to get pregnant, so long to start a family of their own – after all Santana knew that she wanted to be with Valerie and only her. Santana moved from her seat and bent down towards Valerie and placed her hand on her stomach, Valerie looked down at her as small tears fell from her eyes.

"We're going to have a family, San. We're finally going to be a family." Valerie eyed Santana who just admired Valerie's stomach, "San? Say something."

"Marry me." She whispered.

Valerie assumed she heard differently and moved back a little from Santana's grasp, "What?"

Santana leaned back to her chair and fumbled around in her purse to pull out a small black box. Valerie gasped with delight, "I was going to wait for our actual anniversary, but this… I don't think this can wait." Santana bit her bottom lip, opening the box, "I, um, I had a speech and everything but I think I lost the ability to function." Valerie giggled.

"Just say what's in your heart."

Santana wet her lips, "All my life I've never met anyone like you. Someone who makes me smile without trying and know just what to say when I'm having a shit day like today; someone who gets me and I know will always be here for me." She paused, taking a deep breath, "You're my everything Valerie and I know that I've found my soul mate. So, um, will you marry me?"

Valerie turned her head upwards in a thinking position, tapping her index finger on her chin, "Let me think about it…"

"Valerie." Santana said giving a small pout, one she coined from Valerie herself.

A grin formed on the tanned female's lips, "Of course I'll marry you. There's no one else I'd rather be with." Santana slipped the ring on Valerie's finger before kissing her passionately on the lips; a small moan only heard by Santana came from Valerie's lips.

"Don't start anything you can't finish." She whispered against Santana's lips.

"Oh I'll finish." Santana smirked, kissing her lips lightly once more before sitting down opposite Valerie. They were getting married and having a family. They were going to be a family.

* * *

**LA, California – Mid 2012**

Santana flopped down on the bed, kicking off her shoes, her head in the pillow as Valerie sat up in bed reading a parenting magazine – something Santana told her many times not to read.

"Long day?" Valerie questioned, not taking her eyes from the article she was reading as her fiancé made grumbles into the pillow, kicking her legs aggressively at the bed. "I see. Well, what did he do?" More grumbles and more kicking came from Santana, "Well, it's not really his fault, you know he's going through a hard time. His wife just found out she was diagnosed with Cancer." Again more grumbles until a final small scream escaped from Santana's pillow. Valerie sighed, placing the magazine on the nightstand. "Come here." She instructed Santana who obliged; resting her head on Valerie's protruding stomach.

"How many times have I told you that you only cause more stress than needed on yourself? Just relax. I'm more than sure that everything will end up well. You just got _Hot Like Fire_ off the ground, you can't expect to automatically jump right back into the game so soon." Santana sighed hating that Valerie was almost always right.

"I hate you." She whispered against the fabric of Valerie's nightgown.

"I love you too. Now, scoot, I have to pee." Santana moved her head upwards and Valerie got off of the bed and made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Santana flopped her head back onto the bed, massaging her temples trying to find some form of relaxation. For the last nine months it seemed her work load only made her more upset than ever. Book signings, book tours, and not to mention her staff was officially shortened because of cut backs and random illnesses. She sighed, turning over on her side taking in the scent of her fiancé's side.

"Babe, you're not using that lotion I told you to use. I can tell." Santana called into the bathroom, "I told you to use it. It's supposed to help with stretch marks and that body is not getting any stretch marks anywhere near it." She declared, but instead of an answer she heard a small grunt and a crash. "Babe?" She questioned, turning onto her back and getting off of the bed, walking towards the bathroom, "Babe are you okay? Come on answer…" Her voice trailed off as she opened the bathroom door with wide eyes. "Oh my God, Valerie. Valerie, baby, talk to me."

Valerie's body slumped down on the floor, her legs spread and her head tilted to the side. Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed, "Baby, come on. Please, please." Santana lightly slapped Valerie to get her to wake up, but the female in front of her remained unconscious. The sight frightened Santana, trying to figure out what to do as she frantically stood up and went back into the bedroom knocking down books and sheets trying to find her cell phone. Finding it she quickly dialed 911 and went back to her fiancé who was still unconscious. She grabbed Valerie's hand and squeezed it, "I'm not going anywhere. Do you hear me? I'm not going anywhere."

...

Santana paced back and forth in the waiting room, playing with her fingers taking deep breaths trying not to make herself have a panic attack.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Quinn Fabray, her best friend of almost 13 years, asked her. Santana shook her head not looking at Quinn, who sat in the hospital waiting room chair, as she paced back and forth. She hadn't changed her clothes or even fixed her hair, she only wore her slippers – the only shoes she could get to in time.

"You should eat… or drink something… you look pale." Quinn continued onwards trying to think of something to keep her friend at bay, though she was sure that was long lost. Again Santana shook her head continuing to pace before hearing footsteps echo down the hallway. She looked up, stopping in mid pace, eying the doctor with a heavy heart. Quinn stood up from her chair and walked towards Santana standing beside her.

"Well?" Quinn asked since Santana seemed to have lost her voice.

The doctor looked down at his hands and then back at Santana momentarily, "We bandaged her head and ankle and while we were trying to figure out what to do in concerns of the baby, she gained consciousness. She was hysterical but in pain. She was nine centimeters dilated when we prepared to deliver the baby; it was a simple delivery, however, your son wasn't crying or… moving." He paused, watching Santana's face that was emotionless, "The fall Ms. Johnson encountered was fatal for the child. He…"

"She gave birth to a dead baby." Santana finished his sentence, her face completely unreadable as she spoke.

"We realized we couldn't help him so we tried to help her instead but her amniotic fluid entered her blood stream and her heart and lung collapsed. We worked extremely long and hard to bring her to, but she slipped into a coma and from there…I'm sorry, we did the best we could."

Santana swallowed turning away from both Quinn and the doctor. Quinn sighed and nodded at the doctor to leave them be as she went to Santana who turned back around, "Can I see them?" The doctor turned around and wanted to tell her no, but the hurt in her eyes made him throw away the answer as he led them down the hallway towards the room where both mother and son lay.

_They seem so peaceful_, Santana thought to herself, _so peaceful_. Santana walked over slowly towards the baby and sighed, a small tear falling from her eye as she lightly rubbed his head. He was a beautiful combination of both Santana and Valerie and the sight of him made her want to throw up. She turned away from him and walked towards Valerie, biting her lip softly. Santana grabbed Valerie's hand and gently squeezed it, "I'm not going anywhere. Okay? I'm not going anywhere." She whispered into her ear, tears trailed down her cheeks as she collapsed into a ball beside her body.

* * *

**One Year: One Week Later**

"No, this isn't… you know what? Forget it. I don't have time for this." Santana sucked her teeth and grabbed her purse and exited the publishing building, her feet clicking against the concrete sidewalk. Her phone rang in her purse at a high volume and the hangover she was treating wasn't happy at the screeching of the familiar ringtone.

"What?" She answered.

"Good morning, sunshine." She heard Quinn reply in a perky tone – _too_ perky for Santana's liking.

"Can you not? It's too early to be so damn happy."

"It's never too early to be happy." She paused, "How goes the hangover? How many drinks this time?"

"Enough." She shrugged.

"You should really go to AA."

"I don't have a drinking problem. Is there something you want?" She snarled.

"Yes, there is. What are you doing tonight at 8?"

"Drinking dinner." Santana replied nonchalantly.

Quinn scoffed, "As fun as that seems, don't you want to get out and do something?"

"Like?"

"_Like_… Mercedes is hosting a speed dating experiment tonight at the Starlet Lounge and…"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I don't need to, my answer is still no."

"You never do anything I ask."

"There's a reason for my insanity."

"Santana." Quinn groaned.

"Don't 'Santana' me. I don't want to. Speed dating is for the desperate and the pathetic, I'm neither."

"You're drinking yourself into an early grave."

"At least I'll know what I died from."

"Santana Diabla Lopez!"

"Easy with the screaming, Jesus. What are you, my mom?"

"No, I'm your best friend who is worried about you. I just… I just thought that this would somehow help you. Make you smile at least a little." Quinn shrugged and Santana sighed, rolling her eyes as she crossed the street towards her apartment.

"I'll do it for 'Cedes." Quinn squealed happily, "Can you not?"

"Sorry, sorry. Awesome. I'll see you at 8!"

"Whatever." They hung up as Santana turned the key and entered her apartment, throwing her keys and purse onto the small sofa chair. She went into the kitchen and grabbed her snack before dinner: a beer, and took a long sip. She was going to need something to keep her stable for this stupid speed dating nonsense. She never understood why her friends did these 'experiments' she knew it was just a ploy to get her back into the dating game but she was hardly up for dating anyone else. You only got one soul mate and she was more than sure it was Valerie. The only woman she would ever love.

* * *

**A/N:** Well? What do you all think thus far?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hi! It's awesome to see people interested in this story. I think this chapter is definitely a lift up from the previous one and we finally meet Brittany as well as two other characters - well four, two of them are by mouth. This chapter was a lot of fun to write because I always love writing for Brittany because she's so fun and free and unpredictable and it makes writing for her fun. I also went back over another fan fic I wrote where Britchel were best friends and I loved their interaction and I wished _Glee_ would've made that happen because I think it would've been an entertaining friendship so that's why in most of fics now they're best friends. Oh, and the time that is used before every chapter is to keep in mind of two things. I won't tell you those two things, but if someone figures it out before time I will be impressed. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and don't forget to review.

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Chapter 2

...

**Downtown LA – 7:35pm**

**One Year: Six Days: Twenty-Two Hours**

**Starlet Lounge**

Lavender and black balloons were tied on either side of the inside entrance to the Starlet Lounge. The bar, which typically smelled of whiskey and cigarette smoke, had a channeling aroma of cologne and flowers. The smell together would've usually drove customers away, but tonight the customers seemed to enjoy the change of scenery. A banner hung on the wall's entrance way in big bold black letters: _Speed Dating Night; 8:00pm-10:00pm_. There were splashes of glitter and small clip art pictures of drinks and couples that added to the décor on the banner.

"What's all this?" Rachel Berry, a small raven haired regular, asked taking a seat at the bar's counter.

"Some speed dating shit. I don't know. Bosses' daughter put it together." Brittany Pierce shrugged, as she leaned behind the bar on a small shelf and cleaned one of the empty glasses after handing a martini to Rachel, "You know she comes up with most of the ideas around here. Remember kid day?"

"I kind of liked that one." Rachel stated, taking a sip of her martini. She swirled around in her chair looking at the decorations and place settings. The tables were draped in black table cloths while small electric candles set the mood of the room in the middle of each table. Small lavender flower pedals were splashed beside the candles to give off a romantic vibe, "You have to give her credit though. She does know how to draw a crowd in around here." Rachel noted as people began to fall into the bar, signing their names on a clipboard at the front entrance where the main table for the event displayed. Many wrote their names on a name sticker in big bold letters and placed it on their chest.

Brittany scoffed, "I know the perfect way to bring in customers." Rachel turned around to her blonde friend with an arched eyebrow already knowing where this conversation was headed.

"We talked about this."

"What? There is nothing wrong with taking off a few pieces of clothing or dancing around for fun and maybe even a few extra dollar bills."

"It's illegal"

"Not at a strip club." Brittany added with a grin, placing the empty glass down and doing the process over with another. "Where's Puck tonight?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed, "Noah is out with friends tonight. He's excited because he finally landed that big job he wanted."

"The pool cleaning one? I thought he went into business for himself though?"

Rachel waved her hand dismissively, "No, not that one. He gave up on that dream. Apparently it didn't make enough money for his liking." She shrugged, "I'm talking about that new pizza place on Broadway."

"Jordan's?"

"Maurice's."

"Oh, so then why aren't you with him tonight?"

"Like I said, Noah is out with _his friends_. You've seen his friends. Annoying, bulky guys who like to burp and scratch places I'd rather they not scratch in a public place. Besides Noah wouldn't have paid much attention to me if I was there anyhow. When he's with his friends the only way I would get his attention is if I was naked in heels and I refuse to resort to desperate measures to get my boyfriend's attention."

"Ah ha! But you do admit that you could do it if you wanted to." Rachel sighed, not wanting to restart this conversation.

"Don't start this again."

Brittany giggled as she placed the clean glass on the counter and began redoing the process turning her attention to the opening bar door "Uh oh, here comes trouble." She said her eyes falling on the door as the bosses' daughter, Mercedes Jones, entered the bar. She was a beautiful chocolate female, average height with a thickness about her. Brittany thought Mercedes was a bit annoying but admired her business ambition.

"Hello ladies." Mercedes said cheerfully, clapping her hands together after doing a once over at the list of names for the event. She sat down beside Rachel at the bar as Brittany handed her a beer. "What if I didn't want a beer?"

"You always want a beer." Brittany replied nonchalantly returning to her cleaning.

"One day, Smartie, I will surprise you and change my drink order."

"You let me know when that happens." Brittany responded, placing the glasses in a certain order behind the bar before taking out a rag and wiping down the counter.

Mercedes turned to Rachel, "What have you been up to since last time I saw you? Still working at that restaurant?"

Rachel cringed at the mention of her work, taking another sip of her drink, suddenly wanting something stronger. Work was always a touchy subject for the raven haired female and somehow she knew that Mercedes caught whiff of it and this only made her despise the chocolate female. She worked as a singing waitress – for lack of a better way to put it. They would put on plays while people ate and during intermission she would serve them dessert; she loathed it. That wasn't her dream, she wanted so badly to go to Broadway and become the star she knew she was, however, money was tight and once she didn't get into NYADA – a college in New York for the performing arts - her ideal dream became only a delusional one.

"Yes." She replied after a moment of silence, continuing to sip on her drink, ignoring Mercedes' gaze.

"I should come by there more often with Mike. He loves the cheesecake there."

"How is the Chang man?" Brittany piped up behind the counter, Rachel silently thanking her friend for the intervening.

"Great, as always. His dance studio is just 'round the way you know, you two should stop by some time."

"He looking for any recruits?" Brittany questioned, swinging the rag over her shoulder, and leaning on the counter to have the conversation with Mercedes better.

"You dance?" Mercedes asked, surprised.

"She's an amazing dancer." Rachel remarked, "You haven't seen anything until you've seen this girl dance. She's also a pretty good singer."

"Not as great as you though." Brittany complimented back with a tender smile, turning back to Mercedes, "So is he?"

"Not at the moment." She stated simply, opening her beer finally and taking a long sip as she checked her watch. "I'll let you know though. Shit. It's almost 8. I better get ready." She hopped off the bar stool and took another long sip of her beer, "You two joining the festivities?"

"Not a chance in hell." Brittany said, taking the half empty beer bottle and placing it behind the bar.

"There is no one here worth my time. Besides, I'm happily taken." Rachel added.

"It was worth a try. Brittany put that…"

"On your tab. I know the deal. I'll keep it cold for you."

"You're perfect." Mercedes swished away towards the event table and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"God I hate her."

Brittany simply laughed.

* * *

**Downtown LA – 8:30pm**

**One Year: Six Days: Twenty-Two Hours: Fifty-Five Minutes**

**Starlet Lounge**

"And that's how I got this cut right here above my knee."

"How entertaining." Santana responded sarcastically. She couldn't believe she was sitting here engaging in conversation with this sad excuse for a male. She was peeved that Quinn, at the last minute, decided to back down – though she knew she wasn't going to come anyway, she was, after all, "a married woman with respect for my husband." Santana only rolled her eyes at the description. Mercedes was there, obviously, taking notes on her clipboard and eying her every so often with a grin and a thumbs up. The fourth time Mercedes did that Santana just flipped her off and sighed taking a long gulp of her beer – there wasn't enough beer in the world for this shit.

The guy in front of her, if anything, was okay to look at. He had scruff – which always was a turn on for her, despite her obvious sexual preference of women only – he was a light caramel complexion, soft dark brown eyes, and a gorgeous smile. He had a football player's build with wavy neatly cut hair, he also wore a suit which meant one of two things. He either wanted to impress people or he came from money, either way Santana liked his look, it was the overall package she wanted to throw up from. His breath was strong and not in a minty fresh way, his cologne was choking her, and he was as drier as the desert.

"Oh, I should also tell you about the story about my birthmark."

_Ding!_

"Switch!"

"Thank God. Get up now." Santana waved him away, placing her head in her hands, only for another boring looking female to take his place. "Name?" She asked, looking up unimpressed, not bothering to notice her name tag.

"Lindsay. You?"

"Santana. You're not about to tell me about your weird scars are you?"

Lindsay giggled, "No, but I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"Hm, well then…"

...

The night was anything but promising. Thus far Santana had spent a total of thirty minutes with six different people and each was more annoying and boring than the last. Their outer appearance did nothing for their boring interior. From the bar, Brittany saw all of this happening and couldn't help but smile at Santana's antics of playing with her phone and watching dust fly as her 'date' talked onwards.

"What are you smiling at?" Rachel asked her friend and followed her gaze to the Latina across the way, who was now gulping down a beer – this was number five. "She looks so entertained."

Brittany giggled, "Doesn't she though? I'm pretty sure if there were forks on the table she would've stabbed herself by now." She shook her head, looking down at the bar as a guy in polyester nodded for a beer. She passed one down to him, her eyes on Santana the entire time.

"She's also cute." Rachel chimed, turning back to Brittany who shrugged.

"I guess you can say that."

"You totally want to jump on her vagina right now."

Brittany rolled her eyes, "_Never_ say that to me again. I just said she was cute…" She licked her lips, eyeing Santana carefully, "Actually, she's kind of hot."

"Too bad you're not doing this speed dating thing."

"Are you playing me, Diva?" Brittany inquired with a grin.

"Not at all." Rachel said, swirling in her bar stool to get a better look at Santana, "Though, she's been asking for drinks _all_ night. Such a shame you're behind the bar and not a waitress or something. You two could engage in a conversation." Rachel formed a side grin turning back to Brittany, "Though, she might stab you with an invisible fork. You know how boring you are."

"Remind me to hate you later." Brittany said as she placed the rag on the counter and left the bar.

"Will do." Rachel said, holding up her third martini in pride and turning around to sip it before hopping off the stool to assist behind the bar. The things she did for her friends.

Brittany made her way towards Santana as the bell dinged. A female had taken a seat in front of Santana and Santana was far from pleased with the girl already. Brittany could understand why. Double plaid and pigtails – was she six? Brittany shook her head as she tried to think of a way to get her away from Santana. She smirked to herself as she sneakily grabbed the female's phone from her back pocket and held it behind her back, tapping her on the shoulder gently, "Excuse me, Miss? The bartender said she found your phone?"

The female looked confused while Santana looked intrigued, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned back in her seat.

"My phone?" She repeated, "But, my phone's right…" She felt around in her pocket, "Oh… Um, be right back gorgeous." She turned to Santana before leaving.

"This seat taken?" Brittany questioned with a smirk.

"Guess not." Santana replied as Brittany sat down placing the phone on the table. "And you stole her phone because…?"

"I'll return it. You looked like you needed saving. You've looked like that all night actually."

"So, you've been watching me, huh?"

Brittany smirked, wetting her lips and moving forward in her chair, "You can say that. Though I don't understand how a beautiful woman like you would be here at speed dating. I'm sure you can have anyone you wanted."

Santana arched a seductive brow; was she seriously flirting with her?

"I _can_ have anyone I wanted, but you see, that doesn't mean I want them." She flirted back, leaning forward in her seat so that their faces were inches away. Santana took in Brittany's scent, swimming in a river of tequila and rosemary. Brittany's soft oceanic eyes were held captive in Santana's chocolate brown before they toured towards her lips and then back up again causing both women to lick their lips.

"So, what kind of person are you looking for?" Brittany questioned, her eyes suffocating in Santana's melting brown core.

Santana giggled, "Wouldn't you like to know?" She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.

"Well, that's kind of why I asked."

"I'm not looking for anyone." Santana remarked honestly, her annoyance rising, "I'm only here because Mercedes wanted me to come here." She shrugged matter-of-factly, the flirtatious banter leaving her voice quickly. Brittany caught on to it and sighed quietly, leaning back in her chair as well with a sly smile on her lips.

"Didn't know she had friends." Santana tilted her head and was ready to defend her friend's honor when Brittany quickly added, "She's usually here alone and when we talk it's either about the business or her husband."

"That sounds about right. So, wait, you work here?"

"Have you never been to this bar before? I work at the bar. Bartender. That's the thing I do."

"Huh. I've never seen you."

"Damn, I usually stand out." Santana smiled shaking her head, "Well, would you look at that. She smiles."

"Sometimes I smile. Smiles. That's the thing I do."

The two ladies giggled lightheartedly together, "You should come by more often. No speed dating or anything needed."

"And why would I want to do that?" She asked, leaning forward again in her chair slightly.

"To see me of course."

"What makes you think I want to see you? I don't even know you. You just stole that chick's phone."

"To get closer to you, how else was I supposed to talk to you?"

"You could've asked."

"Would you have talked to me if I asked?" Santana thought about it and when she made no movement to speak Brittany nodded, "You see my point."

"Do you have a name, Bartender?" Brittany smiled as she saw out the corner of her eye the female coming back towards the table – irate as she moved.

"You'll have to come back here to figure that out."

Santana opened her mouth to speak as Brittany grabbed the phone and stuffed it behind her back as the female came back. She was shorter than Brittany – and not as attractive, Santana noted.

"She didn't have my phone." The girl snarled.

"Oh, my mistake." She stuffed the phone back into the female's pocket without notice and winked at Santana as she made her way back to the bar. Santana sucked her teeth into a grin, but it soon faded as thoughts of Valerie entered her mind. How could she have so easily slipped into a flirtatious interaction and not think about the consequences? How could she think that another woman was attractive? It was if she forgot all about Valerie. She could never forget about Valerie.

She felt sick.

"I… I have to go." Santana stammered as she ran out of the bar and made it to the bathroom before she hurled into the toilet. She took a deep breath and slid down the wall, crying into her hands feeling disgusted with herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

...

**West Side LA – 11:35pm**

**One Year: One Week: Two Days: Two Hours**

**Santana's Apartment**

_A camera flashed in Santana's face as she posed to take a photo with another teenaged fan. She was impressed. The turnout for her first big book signing was amazing; there were so many people there to greet her, all ranging from early teen to mid-fifties. It was astounding and overwhelming but at the same time it warmed her heart. She didn't expect much to come out of her hundred some odd page book she randomly called Candle, for lack of a better stand out name, but within the first week she had sold almost half of the entire stock. Santana was amused when her agent called her and told her about the percentage of money she would receive as well as the press so many people wanted her to do – were they serious? Over a book? This sad little book she wrote when she was a teenager only because she hated her life? This diary turned book? __**This**__ book? It was hilarious to her._

"_Is it true?" A teenaged creamed skinned female asked her as she handed her the book to sign._

_Santana wrote her autograph then looked up at the girl, "Is what true?"_

"_That this book is based off your life story."_

_Santana grinned handing the book back to the girl and nodded. The girl pressed the freshly written book to her chest and squealed as if her life had new meaning._

"_She seemed impressed." The next person in line said, handing her book to Santana. Santana took the book without looking at the fan and smirked._

"_To say the least." She wrote down her autograph, her attention on her penmanship and not the female before her. _

"_I'm a lefty too." The fan announced, "I didn't know you were though. Your wiki doesn't really say much about you."_

"_Not much to tell." Santana replied without missing a beat, finishing up her autograph and handing her book to the fan. She froze. The female before her was…well, to put it simply, she was gorgeous. She had redish-brown hair cut into a curled bob, her smile was elegant but held a calming grace to it, and she was obviously taller than Santana and held a captivating fragrance that the writer couldn't place. Her skin was flawless, painted with deep shades of brown; her body was petite and slim but her clothes hugged the right parts of her letting her luscious curves sculpt her body. Santana was in awe._

"_Is there a problem?" The fan asked._

_Santana shook her head, trying to find her voice, "N-no. What's your name?"_

_The female smirked, "Valerie. Valerie Johnson."_

"_It's really great to meet you, Valerie."_

_Though hidden behind her skin tone, Santana swore she saw the hint of a blush as Valerie smiled and walked away._

"_Valerie Johnson…"_

Santana awoke from her bed with a start, sweat dripping down her forehead as she tilted her head back onto the headboard. _Fuck, not now, please not now._ It had been months since her last dream of Valerie and now they had started back up again. The memories taunting her. Repeating over and over in her head and she wished she could silence them all and throw them away – but on the other hand she wasn't sure she could face getting rid of the memory of her. She got up from her bed and walked down the hallway towards her kitchen and opened the fridge for a beer only to be met with emptiness.

"You've got to be kidding me." She groaned, slamming the fridge door shut and smacking her head against the door. "The one time. The one damn time I need it." She sighed, balling her hand into a fist and punching the fridge. She was angry, but not just because she was out of beer. She checked the clock on the wall and groaned lowly; she really didn't want to travel to find something to settle her mind, but what choice did she have? There was no way she was going back to sleep without some alcohol in her system.

She sighed, thinking of what stores were closest to her, but realized most of them were closed. _Guess Starlet Lounge it is._ Another groan left her lips before she slowly made her way back to her bedroom and changed from her PJ top and bottoms into something more suitable to arrive at a bar in – a pair of jeans and a nice top would do, it was nearly midnight after all, who truly gave a shit? Strapping on her sneakers, she grabbed her keys and wallet and trailed out of her apartment in less than a happy mood about it.

* * *

**Downtown LA – 12:02am**

**One Year: One Week: Two Days: Two Hours: Twenty-Seven Minutes**

**Starlet Lounge**

"Fred. Hey Fred!" Brittany nudged the bald headed middle aged man with a small stick she kept behind the bar. He groaned and flipped her off. "Though I'm sure you want to, not in this lifetime or the next. Get up, come on, you're hogging the bar here." She poked him again and he groaned once more. "I'm callin' your drunken ass a cab." She announced, going towards the phone that hung on the back wall and making that all too familiar phone call to the cab company.

The door swung open and Santana was met with dim lights and drunken bodies lazily resting around the bar and tables. _This is what this bar looks like on a regular_? She rolled her eyes at the sight, hardly impressed with the atmosphere, giving herself a mental pat on the back that she didn't go to bars often to get her drunken fixes. Brittany was too busy with the phone to notice Santana and Santana was secretly glad the blonde hadn't looked her way. After their flirtatious encounter Santana wanted to avoid her at all cost, but because this bar was the closest to fulfill her alcoholic craving it seemed that her want would never be fulfilled. It wasn't as if the brunette was scared of a small flirtation, but it was the consequence of it all. It left a queasy feeling in her stomach, more so than usual. When she flirted to get out of a parking ticket or just so one of her annoying publishers would leave her alone she didn't feel any form of queasy feeling – aside from the usual one of annoyance and disgust for their own presence – so she questioned why she felt so weak after the flirtation with the bartender. It was odd. Even for her.

She thought back to the last time she was at the Starlet Lounge and was grateful that no one had followed her into the bathroom and she didn't show any signs of tears or vomit stained attire when she left the bathroom and left the bar altogether. Santana found herself shifting thoughts between Valerie and guilt to Brittany and what would've happened if she had followed her in. The idea of a beautiful woman finding her in that state was less than attractive.

Shit.

There she was again thinking Brittany was beautiful. That pinch of guilt flopped into her stomach and she found herself about to throw up again, but before she could escape to the bathroom Brittany had placed the phone down and was making her way over. "Don't even _think_ about going behind the bar, Fred. I'm watching you. We have cameras everywhere." Brittany remarked pointing aimlessly around the bar.

"Do you really?" Santana questioned, feeling silly for doing so.

Brittany smirked, "Of course not, but he doesn't need to know that." She took in Santana's appearance, noting that even at midnight she was still as beautiful as the first time she laid eyes on her. "I'm glad you decided to come by and see me."

"Someone is full of themselves. What makes you think I came here to see you?"

Brittany shrugged, "I'd like to think you didn't just come here for the beer."

Santana sighed, a blushing smile on her lips.

"There goes that smile again." Brittany pointed out, "What are you having, beautiful?"

"Just a beer. Nothing fancy."

"Simple, I like simple." Santana rolled her eyes as Brittany walked to get her the drink. Santana took in the people around her noticing most of them were talking in drunken conversation while a light beat played in the background. She didn't know the song – not like she was into today's music anyway – but it sounded nice. Most of the people at the bar were sleeping off their drinks, most of them older men and balding. She shook her head at the sight.

"One beer, as requested." Brittany smiled, handing the bottle to her.

"Thanks." She popped open the top and began to gulp and took a long sigh afterwards, "I needed that."

Brittany looked at her with wide eyes, "Looks like it."

"Keep 'em comin' too."

"Are you driving tonight?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. Hot or not, I'm not letting you drive home drunk."

"Well, aren't you helpful?" Santana replied sarcastically.

"I look after my customers."

"After you get them drunk of course."

"You know, I actually care about my customers. The people that enter this bar are kind of like my family. We talk, we laugh, and we even share a beer or two. They're good people." She paused, "Or are we too common for the Queen?"

Santana scoffed, "What's that supposed to mean exactly?"

Brittany shrugged, "Whatever you want it to mean, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"Princess, princess, princess." Brittany teased.

"_Come on, princess, move your ass."_

"_I really hate it when you call me that." Santana breathed out as she caught up to Valerie at the top of a hiking trail that Valerie just had to take every Saturday. Santana should be used to this outdoor routine they've been doing it for two years now._

"_Come on, work those muscles, princess. Move that ass. Let's go! Up, up, up!"_

"_God, I hate you."_

"_I love you too." Valerie smirked as she jogged behind Santana lightly pushing her up the hill, "Let's go, princess, up, up, up." She chanted as they made it to the top a little while later. "Don't you feel refreshed?" She quirked, still full of energy jogging around Santana who fell onto the ground._

"_Remind me to hit you when we get back down."_

"_Awe, but you would never hit me." Valerie teased, pausing her jogging to plant a kiss on a whiney Santana's lips._

_Santana pouted at the loss contact and sighed to herself. "I don't know how in the hell you manage to get me up here every Saturday." Santana whined. _

_Valerie smirked at her, taking a seat on the ground beside her, running her fingers through Santana's beautiful hair. She planted a sweaty kiss on her girlfriend's forehead, "Because you love me and when you're in love you do crazy things to make them happy."_

"_Like you going to meet Jenna Marbles with me even though you don't like her?" Santana grinned._

"_Yes, baby, exactly like that. I'll do anything to make you happy."_

"_I know. I'll do anything to make you happy too. I love you."_

"_I love you back. Come on." Valerie stood up and extended her hand to Santana, "There's another hill to climb."_

_Santana merely groaned._

"Hello? You there?" Santana saw snapping movements in her face and she blinked frantically trying to remember where she was.

"Oh, yeah, I… yeah."

"Are you okay? I don't think you should be drinking right now."

"I'm fine; just… just don't call me princess again."

"I won't."

"Are you going to tell me your name now?" Santana questioned.

Brittany leaned on the counter, "Well, some people call me Hot Pants, others call me Sexy Bartender, but _you_ can call me Anytime, Anyplace." Brittany giggled, leaning back and sticking out her hand, "Brittany Pierce."

"San…"

"Tana Lopez, yeah, I know. I checked your tag the other day." Brittany stated, shaking Santana's hand.

"Nice memory." Brittany shrugged.

"I remember what I want to." She turned around to Fred who had woken up and was now trying to get another beer, "Ugh, excuse me." She walked to Fred swatting his hand away with her stick and thanking unicorns – Santana didn't get it – when the cab driver entered. Once Fred and a few others were safely out of the bar and into an awaiting cab Brittany made her way back towards Santana and sighed happily.

"Now, where were we?"

* * *

**West Side LA – 7:35am**

**One Year: One Week: Two Days: Ten Hours**

**Santana's Apartment**

The sunlight from the unclosed bedroom curtains shone in Santana's face as a small groan escaped her lips and she turned over. Her head was pounding and she felt her body needed more rest than she had given it, but she wasn't really one to lounge in bed so she opened her eyes sitting up in her bed and yawning to herself. She stretched her arms, blinking rapidly to wake herself up. She turned to her left side and gasped at the sight of a body next to her and screamed, falling out of the bed in the process.

"What? What's wrong? What happened?" The body questioned, waking up, noticing the bright light hitting her face and squinting, "Damn. That sun is bright as hell."

"What? Why are you there? Why? Why are you..?" Santana stammered.

Brittany sat up from the bed, running a hand through her hair and giggling, "Oh um, you were pretty drunk this morning and no cabs were running so I drove you here. In your car though. It was kind of late when we got here so I just crashed on your bed after I tucked you in, I… I hope that's okay."

"No! No, it's not okay. You're in her… You're… Get out!"

"Whoa, okay, look I'm sorry." Brittany quickly got out of the bed and began to look for her shoes, "You were just drunk and I was tired and I just…"

"You could've fallen asleep on the couch!" _But that belongs to her too. _"You could've asked someone to pick you up! You could've called Mercedes! No one told you to stay, you didn't have to stay."

"You were drunk and crying!" Brittany argued.

"That's what I do, I cry when I'm drunk."

"This wasn't a simple sniffle; you were full blown out crying. You threw up on the way here twice and you kept repeating some girl name Valerie over and over the entire night. You were hysterical!" At the mention of Valerie's name Santana froze, "I told you, I care about my customers and I'm not going to let you be alone when you clearly needed someone. I thought you would've gotten sick or something the way you were acting, I thought I was helping."

Brittany sighed to herself, questioning how she always got caught up in crazy hot women as she collected her belongings and left Santana's bedroom. Santana wanted to go after her and explain to her what was happening, but what exactly would she explain? She didn't really owe her an explanation she didn't even know her and she barely remembered the night before. Quite frankly she remembered nothing. She quickly looked around to make sure everything was still in place and that nothing was stolen but there was one thing out of place, Santana knew for certain. The left side of the bed was slept in and unkempt and this sudden change twitched at Santana's insides and she ran to the bathroom to throw up the rest of the alcohol that made it through the night.

* * *

**A/N:** I know the story is sad but it gets better. Promise! Happy, happy, fun times to come. I can't wait to see your reaction for the beginning of the next chapter. Hee Hee. Anyway, review!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

...

**East Side LA – 3:09pm**

**One Year: One Week: Four Days: Seventeen Hours: Thirty-Nine Minutes**

**Ted McKinnon's Apartment**

"Mm, fuck, Brittany."

A smirk escaped Brittany's lips as she kissed soft tanned skin, causing the female on top of her abs to tense at the touch. Her kisses started softly, sliding from the girl's thigh towards her folds, increasing in aggression the closer she got to her wetness. She parted her folds delicately, teasing the girl on top of her a little with the tip of her tongue – merely for her own amusement; she loved for them to beg for it – before she slid her tongue fully into the soft nectar. The female grabbed hold of the headboard as her legs closed in around Brittany's ears making it impossible to hear much of anything, but she knew not to worry much as the girl's body jolted as her tongue dug lustfully into the warm folds of her. Harder. Then faster. Then harder and faster. She compared her antics to that of a magician, her tongue being the magic and the moans erupting from the body that was spread on her face as the rabbit she attempted to pull out of the hat.

She spelled her name with her tongue – an old technique but a good one – Brittany could hear a small hint of a moan and she smiled underneath her. Her wetness increasing with every stroke and dig; Brittany was enjoying herself way too much to actually take note that the body on top of her had clenched tightly, but not in an arousing state but more of a scared one. Brittany stopped her movements as the girl jumped off of her face and she looked up to see why the female had stopped her magical ride.

Oh.

Her husband was home.

The two of them quickly scattered to either side of the room in silence as the girl's husband's rage boiled over in his face before he began to shout vulgar words at both ladies – mostly his wife. Brittany didn't want to stay around for the pleasantries and she quickly picked up her pace to get her belongings off the floor.

"How many times, Tiffany? How many damn times?" Her husband, a man of roughly thirty-two years with thickening oily white skin and a balding head, shouted at his wife who was moving away from his finger pointing, covering her body with the sheets.

"I'm sorry, Ted. You don't… You don't touch me anymore. Not the way you used to." She explained.

"So you go out and fuck a slut?"

"Hey!" Brittany shouted, stopping her process of picking up her clothes, "I am not a slut. I'm a bartender." Ted turned to her unimpressed.

"Don't make me hit a woman."

Brittany smirked, "Like I said, I'm just a bartender, Mr. McKinnon. Hit me if you want. Won't take away the sweet taste of your wife in my mouth." Ted moved to hit her, but Tiffany held his hand back as Brittany ran passed him and out of his apartment. Within the safety of the hallway – a good distance from the McKinnon door – she put on her clothes and sighed to herself. Nothing like good sex and an angry husband to start off the day. Her phone rang loudly in her jeans pocket as she slid them onto her frame; she clicked it on speaker phone as she put on her shoes.

"Talk to me."

"Brittany, where in the hell are you?"

"Tina, nice to hear from you too. How are you? How's the kids?"

"Don't be an ass. Rachel and I need your help at the restaurant tonight."

"I think I've said this like twice in the last ten minutes, but maybe a third time is needed: _I'm a bartender_. That's all I know."

"You realize you're talking to me, right? I've known you for 2 years and during those years you have been a dancer, a journalist, a…" Brittany let Tina continue onwards listing every odd job she ever did as she searched her pockets for her keys, finding them she clicked her off speaker phone and pressed the phone to her ear, "… a stripper, a gymnast, and not to mention a waitress."

"Are you done?" She questioned, sliding out of the apartment building still able to hear the loud shouts from the McKinnon's apartment.

"Are you coming to Doc's? Yes or no?"

"If it'll get you off my phone, yes."

"Good, see you in a few." Brittany rolled her eyes as she hung up her phone. She didn't get paid enough for this.

* * *

**West Side LA – 4:23pm**

**One Year: One Week: Four Days: Eighteen Hours: Forty-Eight Minutes**

**The Chang's House**

"Mike, Mercedes, let's go! We're going to be late." Quinn yelled up at the stairs of Mercedes and Mike's home.

"We'll be down in a minute, damn." Mercedes called back down, Quinn rolled her eyes and walked into the living room where Santana sat on the couch looking through an old photo album.

"Oh my God, I remember that. This was right after we won sectionals our junior year at McKinley." Quinn gasped, sitting down beside Santana.

"I was so nervous. It was my first solo and everything."

"But you sang the hell out of that song, no one sings Amy Winehouse like you do, San. Damn what was that song anyway? I swear I remember it, but…"

"Valerie." Santana said in a whisper, biting her bottom lip and sighing.

"Oh… yeah…"

"Yeah."

"You ever sing that for her?"

"Only once. Our one year anniversary. I was so damn corny. I had this entire set up. With my dad's help we bought out her favorite restaurant and we ate and danced and I sang for her." Santana smiled thinking back on the memory, "One of the best nights of my life."

Quinn could feel her best friend was slipping away from her and it scared her to think about it. When Valerie – who she had grown to love like a sister – died, Santana completely broke down. She lost herself and it scared Quinn so much that she moved in with Santana to make sure she didn't harm herself, though it rarely did any good. The overdose, the cuts, and the near drowning in her bathtub were enough for her friends to band together and stick her in the hospital. Months passed and she came out seemingly better, until she went back to her apartment – _their_ apartment, the one she shared with Valerie – and that's when the drinking began and Quinn feared it would never stop.

"_I don't need a damn babysitter." Santana snarled at Quinn as she took another gulp from her beer bottle. She sat on the floor of her bathroom while Quinn leaned against the bathroom door frame, her arms crossed with a concerned expression on her face._

"_You need something. You need to go to AA."_

"_I don't have a drinking problem!"_

"_Santana look at you! Look at your life! Look at your choices! I love you, you mean so damn much to me, but I just…" Quinn sighed and walked towards Santana, bending down to meet her at eye level, "…I can't… I can't stay here, Sam understands that I'm here for you but he's my husband and it's not fair to him."_

"_No one is asking you to stay." Santana mumbled._

"_I can't leave here knowing I allowed you to drink yourself into a coma." She grabbed the bottle – a small grunt from Santana was heard – and she turned Santana's face to her, "Promise me, Santana. Promise me that you won't try again."_

"_Try what?"_

"_Santana, please, promise me. Promise that you won't try again. I'll come here every day and bug you and make sure you're not drinking yourself to death because I can't lose you." Quinn rarely ever cried in front of Santana but right now she couldn't fight her tears. Santana noticed this and wiped Quinn's tears away and gave a weak smile._

"_You won't lose me. I promise."_

Quinn lightly bumped Santana's knee, "You never finished telling me about that bartender. What was her name?"

"Brittany. And there isn't much left to tell."

"Well, you stopped the story when you got to the bar."

"That's because I don't remember much else. I got to the bar. Me and her chatted, apparently I was really drunk, she took me home that's that." _I also yelled at her for lying on Valerie's side of the bed and threw up afterwards, but you know. Same ol', same ol'._

"You're lying, there's more."

"I'm not lying and there's nothing more to tell."

Quinn opened her mouth to speak, but Mercedes and Mike came down the steps happy as can be interrupting her.

"You two just had sex, didn't you?" Santana questioned.

Mercedes and Mike turned to one another and smiled.

"Gross." Santana and Quinn said in unison.

"Come on, let's not talk about who had sex with whom, though _you_ little missy have some explaining to do." Mercedes said, grabbing her purse and pointing it at Santana.

"What are you even talking about?"

"We heard you got it in with the bartender at Starlet Lounge." Mike piped in.

"Wait what? Who told you that?" Santana turned to Quinn who looked as shocked as she did.

"Oh it wasn't Quinn. It was Rachel. Rachel Berry? She's best friends with the bartender. I came by the other day to help daddy with inventory and she told me about your late night sleepover."

"We didn't have sex. I didn't get anything in with anyone. She lied to you."

"Whatever you say, S." Mercedes said in a tone that didn't sit well with the Latina. She didn't screw anyone and even if she did why was it any of their damn business? She was a grown ass woman. Her vagina was her business and no one else's.

"Alright, you guys ready? I think we missed the opening number."

"No, no, we still have time. Let's go before all the good seats are gone." Quinn said, grabbing her jacket.

"I hope they still have that cheesecake I love." Mike added with a smile as they all piled into his 2012 Nissan. Santana got in the back seat with Quinn, feeling the heat from all six eyes on her. She turned towards the window and sighed; this was going to be a long day.

* * *

**West Side LA – 4:45pm**

**One Year: One Week: Four Days: Nineteen Hours: Ten Minutes**

**Doc's**

"I just want to eat this really quickly so I can get to the cheesecake." Mike said happily as they were seated at a table in the back and their food was brought out to them.

"You will not. You're gonna get your damn cheesecake, baby, relax." Mike pouted at Mercedes words who just kissed his pout and smiled at him as she began to cut into her steak.

"How come Sam couldn't come, Q?" Mike asked, taking a bite out of his chicken wings.

"He had to work late. He's working on some comic book thing."

"Comic book thing?" Santana repeated, "Great communication skills you two have going on."

"Oh shut up, I listen. When it's important."

"Which is basically never." Mercedes piped in.

"Oh just eat your damn steak."

...

Brittany sat on a stool in the kitchen of Doc's, counting the dots on the ceiling as chaos broke out around her. Wrong orders were being filled, drinks weren't being delivered, and the show was behind fifteen minutes.

"Are you going to get off your ass and help us?" Tina questioned Brittany who turned to her and shrugged.

"I'm not getting paid for this. This was supposed to be my day off."

"Here." Tina handed her a twenty, "Now get your ass to helping." Brittany sighed, taking the twenty and stuffing it in her pocket as she grabbed a tray of drinks to take out. She made her way around the tables and froze up when she saw Santana sitting a few feet away from her. _This isn't happening_, she thought, _I can't approach her. It'll be so damn awkward._ _Fuck, abort, abort._ Brittany quickly turned to go the opposite direction but she was met with Rachel who helped to crash the trays together spilling water and cheesecake on one another.

Santana turned to see the situation and caught sight of Brittany who looked at her and ran in the opposite direction.

"No, not the cheesecake." Mike whined.

"I'll be right back." Santana said, taking the alternative route to find Brittany. She came to the women's bathroom and walked inside seeing Brittany coming out of the bathroom stall wiping away at her clothes and apron frantically with a piece of tissue.

"Are you okay?" Santana questioned.

"I spilled water, not gasoline; I think I'll be fine." She snapped.

"Fine. Just wanted to see if you were okay. Whatever." Santana turned to exit but Brittany's voice stopped her.

"Why do you even care? You practically threw me out of your apartment the other day."

Santana sighed turning back to face Brittany, folding her arms across her chest, "It's… complicated."

"Here I go thinking you were simple."

"My drink order is simple, not me." Brittany continued to wipe at her apron unimpressed, "What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? You had no right…"

"I had no right? _I_ had no right? What exactly did I not have a right of? Helping your drunken ass into your apartment? Holding your hair while you puked up $20 worth of beer? Or making sure you slept peacefully the remainder of the night by staying in your home? Which part didn't I have a right to do?"

"You told people we hooked up."

"I didn't tell anyone anything."

"Mercedes told me that's what Rachel said."

"I told Rachel I slept over at your place. She interpreted the way she wanted to. I know we didn't do anything and so do you, isn't that the most important thing here?"

"No."

"Then what is?"

Santana opened her mouth to speak but closed it, looking down at the ground. "You shouldn't have been in my bed in the first place."

"I wasn't going to try anything with you."

"That's not the point." Her eyes were still on the ground and her voice was barely above a whisper.

Brittany turned to her, tilting her head to look at the female opposite her, "Then what _is_ the point?" She questioned, but Santana made no movements into speaking any further. "Fine." Brittany dropped her tissue into the trash can and placed her hand on the bathroom door but Santana stopped her.

"Can… Can we start over instead? Maybe?"

Brittany turned to her, her hands folded across her chest, "Why?"

Santana shrugged, "I just feel like if I let you walk out this bathroom without saying something useful I'll regret it or something."

"You still haven't said anything useful." Brittany said, forming a smile onto her lips. She sighed, damn her attraction for the hot and crazy. "Alright. We can start over. But… On my terms."

"Your terms?"

"Yes. If you really want us to start over meet me at Santa Monica Pier tomorrow afternoon at 5. I like promptness." Brittany smirked. "Think you can do that?"

"Yeah, yeah I think I can."

"Good, see you then, your highness."

"I thought I told you…"

"You said not to call you 'princess' you said nothing about 'your highness' See you tomorrow." She exited the bathroom and Santana let out a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding. She sighed; she was going to start over with Brittany. This made her feel both excited and guilty all at once. They were just going to be friends or something; Santana was sure of this. She couldn't bring herself to be with anyone else, no matter how beautiful or dazzling or intriguing they were.

Shit.

Here comes her lunch.

* * *

**A/N:** Let's not even talk about how hard it was to get this up because was having issues, but yay for it being fixed and all that jazz. Anyway, I consider this just a progression chapter because not much happened. It was just a chapter to move the story along to where I need it to be for chapter 5. Though I wonder how many thought the girl in the beginning was Santana or that it was a dream or something. Hee Hee. Review.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hi hi! As always I'm really happy that most of you are enjoying the story thus far and I wanted to address a few things from the reviews. Obviously I read them and take everything you guys say into consideration and it warms my heart and keeps me writing, but I wanted to first say that no, Santana won't vomit in every chapter. I don't want to say she suffers from anything because it hasn't been medically diagnosed for her, but in case it wasn't obvious Santana doesn't feel that Valerie is dead/gone. So whenever she does something that resembles cheating to her - mostly being happy with Brittany - then she is going to vomit or drink or something to that extent because she feels extremely guilty. So, I hope that kind of answers that. At UnholyBitch - first of all, I love your name - your comment made me laugh. The first part that Sam is cheating. It made me laugh and you'll figure out why later on, but I just love that you came to that conclusion so quickly within the chapter. Love it. Lastly, at bodybroke I totally get why you wouldn't want to read a fic such as mine and you are right to some degree that Brittany is competing with a ghost and that Valerie will always be Santana's 'true love' yet there's also a part where reality meets fiction and that there is something as having more than one true love, so to speak, and though neither one knows it I strongly know/feel that they are each other's true love. How they both finally come to this conclusion is going to be hard and a bit cliche at times, but I think that's what really makes a relationship. Building it from dirt and forming it into a strong and solid foundation. I think I explained that the way I wanted to.. But, anyway, this chapter here was a joy to write and I hope you guys enjoy it!

* * *

Chapter 5

...

**Santa Monica, CA – 5:23pm**

**One Year: One Week: Five Days: Nineteen Hours: Forty-Eight Minutes**

**Santa Monica Pier**

"What the hell is a BreadstiX?" Brittany questioned, eating her cotton candy, arching a curious brow as she and Santana walked down the familiar pier together.

Santana giggled, "It's only the best place to go to for breadsticks when you're in Lima."

"The hell is a Lima?"

Another giggle escaped Santana's lips before she could stop herself, "It's in Ohio. It's where I'm from originally. Where are you from originally?"

"A sperm and an egg." Brittany answered matter-of-factly as she took off a big piece of cotton candy and stuck it in her mouth.

"Smartass."

"That's me." She smirked, "I'm from Jersey. Moved here like two years ago."

"I've been here for seven. I was in New York for a while though."

"Why'd you move here?"

"I really love the weather."

Brittany smiled, "That is a perk. I moved here because my best friend was moving here and she didn't want to move here alone. We used to live together; she lives with her boyfriend now. Rachel. You've mentioned her, but I don't think you've met her."

"I don't want to." Santana responded quickly.

"Oh come on, she's not as bad as Mercedes probably made her out to seem. I've known her for basically ever. We went to middle school together and then high school; we were there for each other through a lot of bullshit. I was the only one that believed she could get her dream of Broadway without NYADA and she was the only one that thought I was smart. She's the only person in my life that made me feel… I don't know, special." She shrugged, "Don't you have someone like that?"

Santana nodded, "Quinn. She's my best friend too. We didn't move out here together though. She came here after I did but it was only because her boyfriend-turned-husband, Sam wanted to work on comics here. She's always been there for me too though." _Even when I couldn't be there for myself._

"Who is her husband? I might've heard of 'em, I love comics."

"Really? Sam Evans. He's more annoying in person though."

Brittany giggled lightly, "I know him! Well, I know _of_ him. I've read a few of his comics, that guy is hilarious, but I haven't seen any new material from him in a while. Is he still working on something?"

Santana shrugged, "Hell if I know. I don't pay attention to that crap and neither does Quinn, if I'm being honest. She said he's working on something though so there you go."

Brittany nodded and from there they grew quiet; Brittany took in the air around them. It was a beautiful day for the pier, it wasn't too hot – for once – and there were small clouds in the blue sky. An occasional cool breeze swept over the ladies as they walked in their shorts and tank tops – or fitted Tee, in Santana's case – and sneakers – or flip flops, in Brittany's.

"Hey look." Brittany nudged Santana to get her attention to look upwards towards the sky, "It's an elephant." She said enthusiastically with a grin that Santana noticed flattered her cheekbones the wider and brighter it became. She had to stop noticing things like that.

"Look at that one, it's a polar bear." Santana looked at the sky and couldn't really see any of the animals or objects that Brittany seemed to find but she looked wherever Brittany pointed to humor her and really she just didn't want to see her not smiling. Eventually Santana's stomach began to rumble and she sighed, grabbing it lightly.

"Someone's hungry." Brittany said, poking Santana's stomach teasingly – who giggled at the contact. "Come on; let's get you something to eat."

"Oh, um, I should tell you that I'm Vegetarian."

"Is that by choice?" Brittany asked.

Santana shrugged, "I guess you can say that. My, um, ex was a vegetarian and she always bragged about how she could beat me up this hill we used to run every Saturday together because she cut out meat from her diet so she had more energy than me." She paused, "I wanted to see if she was right so I tried it and I kind of enjoyed it."

"Well, was she right?"

"About what?"

"Cutting out meat to have more energy."

"Oh, yeah, kind of." Santana smiled, running a hand through her hair nervously. Bringing up Valerie was painful for the brunette and she didn't realize just how painful it was until the statement was out in the air. She sighed to herself feeling a queasy swirl take over her stomach.

"Hey are you okay? You look kind of pale…" Brittany stated, turning her attention to Santana. She stopped walking and turned to face Santana, placing her hand on her shoulders, "Hey, look at me, are you alright?"

The sudden contact jolted Santana back to life and she stepped back from it causing Brittany to frown slightly. "I'm fine." She insisted continuing onwards not waiting for Brittany to catch up.

...

The afternoon passed by Santana in a blur. She wanted so desperately to enjoy Brittany's company and just collapse into her kindness and beauty but her heart wouldn't let her. She continued to fight her body as she tried to keep her food down, eating slowly and calmly as Brittany devoured her hot dog and fries and went back for seconds. Brittany felt a change in Santana's demeanor after her ex was brought up and curiosity was getting the best of her. Who was this ex anyway? Was she that Valerie girl? Or was she someone else? Brittany had all of these questions but didn't want to ask them – she was scared Santana would fall over if she did.

"Did you have a good time?" Brittany questioned as her hands tugged at the belt loops on her jeans as she walked in unison with Santana.

"Yeah."

That answer didn't sit well with Brittany so she added, "I meant with me. Did you have a good time _with me_?"

Something about her sudden childlike tone brought a smile onto the writer's lips that she couldn't hide nor ignore.

"Oh hey look at that, there goes that smile."

Santana sighed, "I do that sometimes."

"You should do that _all the time_. You're even more beautiful when you do."

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls."

Brittany shrugged, "Not really. Only if it's true, and it's true. Your smile changes your entire face. I bet you didn't know that?" Santana shook her head, "No one has ever told you that? Man, you've been hanging with the wrong people. When you smile your eyes kind of sparkle – dance, actually. And you get these cute little lines on the side of your mouth that hit your cheeks and kind of swirl together and it's really adorable. Oh and when you're really into it, your nose crunches and it's really cute."

Santana felt a warm heat rise onto her cheeks and she smiled once more, turning her head in embarrassment.

"Oh hey there's that nose crunch."

"Stop that." Santana teased turning back to her.

"Let me think about it…" Brittany paused, "No." She playfully hit the Latina and jogged away.

"Hey! Get back here!" Santana gasped jogging afterwards.

"Nope. Going to have to catch me first, slow poke."

"Who you callin' a slow poke?"

"That would be you, Madam. And you said you had more energy." Brittany shook her head playfully as she took off full speed out of the pier only making Santana chase after her. She caught up to the blonde and, without a second thought, jumped onto her and they fell into the sand together giggling.

"Help! Help! There's a hot girl on me!" Brittany giggled as Santana sat up on top of her, not realizing she was straddling her.

"Surrender!" Santana said, with a vicious childlike manner, grabbing Brittany's hands.

"Never!" Brittany chipped back in the same fashion.

Santana tackled Brittany's hands, as Brittany giggled – Santana's body was tickling her – and eventually Santana had Brittany's hands pinned above her head in the sand. Their eyes locked and their giggles ceased; their breathing heavy as they sat in the sand in silence.

"Surrender." Santana whispered.

"Never." Brittany replied, looking deeply into chocolate eyes. Santana hadn't noticed how deep and beautifully blue Brittany's eyes were they complimented her blonde hair so well it was almost like a sin to look at her. It _was_ a sin to look at her. She had to get off of her before she did something stupid.

Santana moved to get off of Brittany, but she grabbed Santana's hand and pulled her back down. She rose up a bit to look closer at Santana's face; their breaths both hitched in their throats as their eyes locked. Brittany pulled Santana closer to her; Santana could feel the scent of cotton candy and lollipops on her breath and for some reason it was arousing. Their lips crept together and Santana wanted so badly to kiss her, but her stomach jerked and she knew this was wrong. She turned her head and closed her eyes, hearing a small sigh from Brittany's lips.

"I'm sorry. I can't." She whispered.

"Why not?" Brittany questioned.

Santana turned back to her, small droplets of tears falling from her eyes. Brittany wiped them, "You're more beautiful when you smile." She whispered with a smile.

"Can you… Can you just take me home?"

Brittany nodded sadly.

* * *

**West Side LA – 7:35pm**

**One Year: One Week: Five Days: Twenty-Two Hours**

**Outside Santana's Apartment**

The car ride from Santa Monica to Santana's apartment was mildly awkward for both women. Brittany turned on the radio to drown out the silence, putting it on a low volume as they neared Santana's apartment; her hand rested on the side of her head as the other remained on the steering wheel every so often turning to look at her companion.

Santana sat in the passenger seat of the car, mentally slapping herself for even thinking about kissing Brittany or just thinking about her period. They couldn't be more than friends. They just couldn't be. She sighed to herself as she looked out of the window, her eyes every so often looking at her companion.

"Do you want me to come up with you? You still look kind of pale…" Brittany asked worriedly as she parked the car in front of Santana's apartment.

"No." Santana shook her head, "No, I'm fine. Thanks though." She opened the car door.

"You _did_ have a good time today, right?" Brittany questioned, biting her bottom lip, looking away from Santana's eye to her hands. Why did she need Santana's reassurance so badly? She was just some hot crazy woman.

"I did." Santana gave a weak smile, placing her hand on top of Brittany's without thinking. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body and she swallowed hard. "I had a great time." She added.

Brittany looked at their hands and sighed with relief, looking at Santana's sweet brown eyes. "We should do this again sometime?"

Santana nodded, "I'd like that. I really would."

"Great! This time you pick."

"Deal." Santana removed her hand and Brittany slightly frowned at the loss of contact, but smiled when Santana closed her door and walked towards Brittany side gesturing for her to roll down the window.

"Don't tell me you missed me already. I haven't even left the parking lot." Brittany joked.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Yes, that's exactly what happened." She joked back, "No, um, I just wanted to say goodnight."

Brittany smirked, "Aren't you cute?" She paused with a smile, "Goodnight Santana."

"Goodnight Brittany."

Santana turned and walked up the familiar stairs to her apartment and once inside she darted towards her fridge and grabbed a beer and drowned it. Then another. And another. To cleanse her mind of the thoughts of Brittany and hoping that she hadn't upset Valerie. The beers weren't enough for her as her drunken mind still found solace in the images of Brittany. Somewhere in the night she had found herself in the bathroom crying into a picture frame of her and Valerie.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Hey hey everyone! This chapter is one of my favorite's I've written thus far because of everything that happens in it. It's kind of long but who doesn't love a long chapter, right? UnholyBitch you asked how Brittany knew about Valerie, well, in chapter 3 Santana went to the bar where Brittany works and got drunk and Brittany brought her home and all of that drama transpired. During that drama Brittany informed Santana that she was drunk and hysterical and kept talking about some girl named Valerie. This is actually going to be touched on in about two or so more chapters in more detail about what exactly Santana said about Valerie to Brittany that night. I remember saying that there will be happy happy fun times happening soon and I believe chapter 7 & 8 are pretty good examples of those, but anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and as always review. (:

* * *

Chapter 6

...

**Downtown LA – 8:58pm**

**One Year: Two Weeks: One Day: Twenty-Three Hours: Twenty-Three Minutes**

**Starlet Lounge**

"_Don't stop… Don't stop_…"

Brittany's mouth engulfed a warm, hardened nipple; her tongue pleasuring the tip as she traced her tongue over the flesh. Her fingers – index and middle – battled for domination inside the warm nectar of the mocha brown female that was pinned against the wall of the last stall in the women's bathroom.

"_Fuck_… _Fuck me_." The girl moaned out causing Brittany to smirk up at her before sucking harder on her breast, comparing herself to an infant wanting milk and not stopping until she tasted every last drop. Her fingers increased the pressure, going in a quickened speed as her partner's hands tried to grab hold of something close to her but finding nothing on the wall behind her she grabbed Brittany's head needing something to hold onto as she felt her walls close in around Brittany's fingers and her body tense up.

"Brittany!" A familiar voice called into the bathroom.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "What?" She shouted back, her mouth full of flesh.

"Rachel wants you."

"Can it wait? Kind of busy in here!"

"She said it can't."

"Oh for the love of…" She sighed, releasing her mouth from the girl's breast who whimpered at the loss of contact. "Oh don't give me that face." Brittany smirked as the girl pouted, "Ugh, fine. Hold on to somethin'."

A few minutes later Brittany emerged from the bathroom wiping her hands on a paper towel, throwing it into the trash can as she came around to the bar. The female came out of the bathroom a few seconds afterwards, winking at her – Brittany nodded in her direction – and went back to her date.

"Really?" Rachel asked her, watching the scene take place.

"What?" Brittany questioned as she grabbed her favorite cleaning rag and went to work cleaning empty glasses.

"Her? She's with someone."

"Yeah, I can see her. She's cute. Should've asked her to join actually." Rachel rolled her eyes and Brittany snickered, "What is it that you wanted exactly?"

"I found this." Rachel dug into her pocket and pulled out a tube of lipstick and placed it on the counter. Brittany swung the rag over her shoulder and eyed the tube with an arched eyebrow.

"Um, okay?"

"Are you being blind or just not looking at the evidence?" Brittany scrunched up her nose in confusion, "Look at the shade, Brittany. It's not my color!"

"So why did you buy it then?"

Rachel hit her head against the counter before bringing it back up, "I didn't buy it, Brittany. I found it in Noah's pocket."

"Maybe he's a cross-dresser. Or maybe he's in a play. Or…"

"Or maybe he's cheating on me."

"Don't jump to conclusions, Diva." Brittany insisted going back to her cleaning process.

"I'm not. Look at the facts, okay? How many times have I come here this week and Puck has not been with me because he's 'working late'" She placed the last bit in quotations, "Then when I do want to hang out with him he's making excuses and now I find a tube of lipstick that isn't my shade at all and you're saying I'm jumping to conclusions? I came here for some form of help or reassurance."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Brittany said earnestly, "Okay, you paint a sad picture, but I mean have you asked him if he's cheating on you?"

"When does that ever work for someone? I go up to him and ask him if he's seeing someone else and he's going to give me some macho man answer and tell me I'm drinking too much coffee or hanging out with you too much or something to dismiss the idea that he could actually be seeing another girl on the side." Rachel sighed, "Am I not enough? Is that it? Let's face it, Brittany. I'm nothing anyway."

"Rachel…"

"No, look at me. I was supposed to be on Broadway. The lights, the fans, everything. Everyone in school said I was a star and that I had it in me and where am I? In stupid California at a bar holding up a lipstick tube because my boyfriend is cheating on me!"

"Rachel, hey, stop, look at me." Brittany placed the glass down on the counter and held up Rachel's chin to look at her, "You _are_ a star; you've always been a star that will never change. I hate when you put yourself down like this because it's not who you are. You've put yourself down for years because you didn't get in NYADA but you know what I think? I think they lost out on some real talent. It's their loss, not yours. If you want to try your luck in NY and audition and work your ass off to be a part of the ensemble and work your way up in some big ass Broadway show then I'm right there with you and if Puck or whatever guy you meet doesn't realize the gem they're dating then it's their loss too. You deserve the world, Rachel Berry, and nothing less."

"You'd really be there in NY with me?"

"Duh. You're my best friend. You're like that weird little sister I never knew I wanted."

Rachel smirked, "Thanks…"

Brittany lightly kissed Rachel's forehead, "Anytime."

Then after a beat Rachel stated, "You have vagina breath."

"Oh shut up." Brittany said throwing the rag at a giggling Rachel.

* * *

**West Side LA – 10:39pm**

**One Year: Two Weeks: Two Days: One Hour: Four Minutes**

**The Evans Apartment**

"Your make-up collection is slippin', we need to go shopping soon or something." Santana called out to Quinn, who was in the bathroom slipping on the sexiest dress she owned – though Santana loved to comment that she looked more like a housewife in the dress than a girl who wanted a night on the town.

"It is not slipping at all." Quinn called out, coming out of the bathroom a few seconds afterwards. "I have plenty of make-up in there." Quinn walked over towards Santana and looked through her make-up, "Crap, my favorite lipstick is missing. Did you take it?"

"Why the hell would I take your lipstick? You don't even wear my shade." Santana scoffed, going through her eye shadow.

"I'll just get another on this shopping trip you're planning apparently."

"We haven't been shopping in a while."

"Because I'm usually busy with work and you're always busy with your writing… speaking of which, I haven't heard you bitchin' about your book in a while."

"Yeah, I told my publisher I wasn't feeling it so I'm discontinuing the series."

"You can't do that. Your fans are waiting on the new release. The forums are still talking about when you're going to release the new book."

"It's been a year. They can relax for a bit longer or whatever. I don't know. I wrote something. I finished it but it's just so…"

"So what?" Quinn questioned, applying eyeliner.

"So… depressing."

"You write from experience though."

"I didn't even hand it to my editor or anything. Every time I reread it I just wanted to throw up or drink another beer – which eventually I did and it just became too much for me so I quit and just listened to their ideas instead."

"You're never one to actually tolerate someone else's ideas."

"I know, I just…" Santana shrugged, "Gave up."

Quinn wanted to say something but she wasn't sure what she could say to steer the conversation in a positive way so she kept quiet for a while and so did Santana. The only thing that could be heard was the sounds of lipstick tubes opening and eyelashes curling.

"Lookin' good ladies." They both turned and smiled to see Sam enter the bedroom and plant a light kiss on Quinn's lip.

"Sam, I _just_ did my lipstick the way I like it." Quinn whined, applying more lipstick onto her lips.

"Sorry, babe, but you just look so beautiful tonight."

"She looks beautiful every night." Santana chimed in, getting up from the chair and flicking Sam in the ear. He grabbed his ear and snarled at her but grinned when she smirked back entering the bathroom.

"How come you're not wearing that lipstick I love?" Sam asked Quinn, whose attention was on her cheeks and not her husband.

"I lost it." She replied coolly, turning around to face him and smiling, "Besides that lipstick is my bait. Wouldn't want to sneak another man passed you, now would we?" She asked with a sneaky brow.

"Mm, I love when you do that."

"Do what?"

"You know what." He said, going to kiss her neck.

"I'm going to hurl." Santana remarked coming back in from the bathroom. The Evans' giggled lightly as Sam removed his full shaped lips away from his wife's neck and moved his attention towards Santana instead.

"Do you want a kiss too, Santana?"

"Not even if you were the last Trouty Mouth on Earth." She stated with a smirk.

"Damn, can't blame me for trying." Quinn hit him in the abs and he smiled.

"Hey, Sam, what are you working on now?" Santana asked randomly, catching the blonde male off guard who turned to her curiously.

"I didn't know you cared about my comics."

"Oh, I don't. A friend of mine reads your stuff and was wondering if you were making anything new."

"Is this friend Brittany?" Quinn asked, receiving a look from Santana.

"Are you working on something new or not, Guppy?"

Sam shrugged, "Maybe…" He teased, "But, if your friend really wants to read some new stuff I may have something available by next week sometime. Maybe. I'll give you a rough copy."

"Thanks, I think she'll like it."

"So it _is_ Brittany." Quinn said, though Santana just looked at her once more and rolled her eyes.

"Let's go, Barbie. Tell Ken you'll see him later, we are having a girl's night out. Don't wait up."

"Don't come back pregnant or anything." Sam joked.

"No promises." They said in unison as Quinn blew a kiss to her husband who jokingly caught it and placed it to his heart.

* * *

**Downtown LA – 11:23pm**

**One Year: Two Weeks: Two Days: One Hour: Forty-Eight Minutes**

**Lights Out Club**

Puck wrapped his arm around the top of the booth as Rachel nestled into his chest, propping her legs up to get more comfortable as she attached her body to him. He dropped his hand from the top of the booth to the lower of Rachel's back who hummed at the contact and he smiled down at her. Tina and her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Artie Abrams, sat at the end of the booth in seats – well Tina sat in a seat while Artie sat in his wheelchair. Their seats pressed together as Tina rolled her straw around in her glass and Artie looked at the DJ, displeased with the music that was being played written on his face. Brittany and her date of the night – Jenna, or was it Nina, she couldn't remember – sat opposite Rachel and Puck playing footsies with each other, captivating by the other's scent and lips than paying much attention to the people around them.

"Hey come on you guys. This is supposed to be our one night off and out to have fun with each other. Couple night, remember?" Brittany said, once her lips were freed from Jenna/Nina's grasp.

"Noah doesn't want to dance with me." Rachel pouted, who received a light chuckle from her boyfriend in return.

"I've got two left feet, babe."

"So? I still want to dance with you."

"This song is awful." Artie chimed in, his head turning from the table to the DJ as he spoke, "Do you hear this crap?"

"Why don't you get up there and show 'em how it's done?" Puck questioned, receiving a sigh from Tina who received a look from Artie and a shrug from Puck.

"Come on, man, let's go have a word with him. Maybe he'll play something better." Artie urged, wheeling away from the table.

"I think they do requests." Rachel piped in, sitting up in the booth as Puck had removed his hand from her back and was leaning forward in his seat to get a better look at the DJ.

"What's my girl wanna hear?" Puck questioned as Rachel pretended to think before fingering for him to come closer to her before whispering in his ear. He smirked down at her, "I love it when you talk like that. Come on, Art, let's go." The men left the booth and Rachel began to sip on her martini while Tina slouched in her seat, unimpressed.

"What's your problem?" Rachel asked her.

"Yeah, I expected Rachel to be the angry one."

"Ouch!" Brittany's date shouted, rubbing her leg, snarling at Rachel who gave an apologetic stare.

"Sorry, I meant to kick Brittany."

"What? What I do?"

"I don't have a problem." Tina replied, moving the attention back to her.

"You're lying." Brittany replied to Tina who shrugged and continued to run her straw around her glass.

"Come on, Tina, talk to us." Rachel encouraged.

Tina turned to Brittany's date, who was still rubbing her leg, and looked up at them confused. "Oh wait, is this a best friend thing?" She questioned.

"Go dance or something, we won't be long." Brittany spoke with a small smile, letting the girl out of the booth who rolled her eyes and went down the steps and onto the floor.

"Where in the hell did you even find her?" Rachel questioned.

"We met this afternoon actually. She was looking for a shirt at the mall and I told her she would look hot in the one she has on now and one thing led to another and I did her in the dressing room…"

"Seriously?" Tina asked with an eye roll

"And while she was saying my name over and over and I was trying to remember her's, I asked her to come to this little couple thing. She agreed. Free drinks and sex? Psst, girl was ecstatic."

"When are you going to settle down and find a nice girl or guy to be with?" Rachel questioned, "All of that sleeping with the next best thing has got to be getting boring or something."

Brittany shrugged. It was true that it had become more than just boring and was flat out borderline depressing for the blonde – the thrill that having sex with any and every one once had was decreasing in pleasure and now she never even reached an orgasm. It was more pleasure for her partner than her. But, it was whatever, it was better than being alone, right?

"I thought you were seeing someone anyway? What was her name?" Tina questioned.

"Santana, right? What happened with you and her? You said you slept with her and then nothing. I thought you liked her."

"I didn't sleep with her. I said I slept over at her place, that's all we did."

"What? You didn't sleep with a girl the first time you saw her? That must be a record."

"Fuck you, Tina. And it was the second."

"Well, excuse me."

"Still, what happened to her? I thought you would bring her tonight. You can't stop talking about her."

"We're just… hell I don't know what we are. Friends? I don't know. It's not serious. You know I don't do serious."

"You used to."

"Times change." Brittany shrugged, taking a sip from her beer bottle, "Anyway, don't drift onto my love life. What the hell is wrong with yours? Why are you all depressed lookin'?" She asked, directing the conversation back to Tina.

"Today's Artie and I's five year anniversary."

Rachel and Brittany turned to each other curiously, "But, you two have been broken up for like…"

"Six months? Seven?" Rachel questioned.

"Four, actually, and that's not the point. We always celebrate the first time we got together and tonight he forgot and he doesn't even notice how hurt I am by this."

"Guys don't remember anniversaries."

"True, Puck didn't remember that our one year anniversary was last week and he gave me some weak story of how he made plans at this restaurant and stuff. But in reality he forgot and we had to order Chinese and watched Funny Girl because as he put it 'tonight's all about my baby and whatever my baby wants so she knows she's loved'." She spoke trying to mimic her boyfriend's deep voice, waving a hand dismissively at the statement, "I was pissed but I don't know, he kind of tried."

"You're just making excuses for him." Brittany offered, taking another sip from her beer though received a look from Rachel but shrugged it off.

Tina sighed, "I'll be back. Tiny bladder." She left the table and Brittany sat up straighter in her seat to look at Rachel.

"Alright, what the hell is going on with you? A few hours ago you were talkin' about some lipstick you found and now you're all over Puck like he's your favorite reindeer sweater."

"I just… I thought over what you said and maybe I was just jumping to conclusions."

"Is that what you really think?" Rachel bit her bottom lip and turned away from her friend to look at Puck who was talking to another female – the sight made Rachel cringe and turn back to Brittany and sighed.

"He's not worth this. You're unhappy. I know you are. I support whatever you do, you know that." Brittany reached across the table and grabbed Rachel's hand and lightly stroked it, "And I like Puck like that creepy troll guy that watches a bridge, but he's not the one for you and I think deep down you know it but you're just ignoring it because you don't want to be alone." Rachel snatched her hand away from Brittany.

"You don't know what you're talking about." She responded, bitterly, "Noah and I are in love and that lipstick was probably his mom's. He went to visit her over the weekend."

Brittany opened her mouth to speak but shut it instead, it wasn't worth trying anymore. Tina returned from the bathroom and shortly afterwards Brittany's date joined them, sliding into the booth, snuggling up to Brittany. Her heart was racing and she was aroused – why, Brittany couldn't figure out – and wanted on top of the blonde no matter who was watching. She stuck her tongue down Brittany's throat who was caught off guard momentarily but fell into the old habit and sighed into it as Puck and Artie returned.

"Damn, ladies, get a room." Puck snickered and Jenna/Nina pulled away from Brittany and smirked.

"Sorry. I think it's all the liquor. It does things to me."

"Clearly." Rachel responded disgusted.

"Come on girls; let's get it in on the dance floor! DJ is finally going to play something worth dancing to." Artie said, dancing a bit. Tina smirked at him and rolled her eyes playfully.

"What did you ask them to play?" She asked.

"Our song." Artie responded without missing a beat, "What? You thought I forgot?" Tina smiled in delight and pulled Artie closer to her and hugged him tightly, "Come on, woman. Let's go and shake our groove thing!"

"Did you request what I asked?" Rachel questioned as Tina and Artie moved away from the table and towards the dance floor.

"Oh, shit, I forgot, but I did request something I know you'll love. Come on." Rachel sighed and looked at Brittany who gave her the 'you deserve better' look before disappearing onto the dance floor with Puck.

"Wanna dance?" Jenna/Nina asked Brittany who shook her head, her hand on Jenna/Nina's lower back as she took a big gulp of her beer. "You're no fun."

Brittany opened her mouth to speak but got lost in thought as Santana entered the club with Mercedes and a blonde she didn't know in tow. She placed her beer bottle down and watched the Latina with her eyes; she watched her strut onto the dance floor and dance sandwiched between Mercedes and the unknown female and smiled as she seemed so carefree and fun. It was a nice change of pace from what she was used to seeing the brunette display – though she did catch small glimpses of her happiness and it warmed her heart to have somehow managed to make her smile.

"Excuse me, hello, eyes up here." Her date snapped her out of her gaze and she turned to her with a low grumble.

...

"I am beat! Jesus, 'Cedes, you dance like you'll never dance again." Santana said with a laugh as she made her way towards the bar, "My feet are killin' me trying to keep up with your ass."

"Never say I can't dance again then." Mercedes said in her diva-like tone that caused Santana to roll her eyes.

"Whatever."

"Let's go get a table you guys, my feet hurt too." Quinn pouted, causing Mercedes to laugh and shake her head but follow the girls up the stairs towards the booths. As they walked around to find an empty table, Santana felt her breath get hitch in her throat as she saw Brittany with another female. She wasn't sure why she had butterflies in her stomach and she suddenly felt queasy it wasn't as if they were a couple or even talking on a romantic level. It couldn't go that far. Santana was sure of it. They were just friends – or something like that.

"Isn't that Brittany?" Mercedes questioned, asking the obvious. Santana simply nodded as they neared her table and wanted to walk by but her mind wouldn't let her.

"Hey Brittany." She found herself saying before she could stop herself.

"Hey Santana." Brittany responded with a smile as her date clung to her side, "Oh, um, this is… uh…"

"Monica." _Damn, I wasn't even close_, Brittany thought.

"Right, Monica."

"Hi, nice to meet you." Santana said cordially, "Uh, this is Quinn and you already know Mercedes." She said to Brittany who nodded.

"Oh, so _you're_ Quinn. Nice to meet you."

"And you're Brittany, nice to meet you too."

"Well, um, we better find somewhere to sit or something. Our feet are killing us."

"You can sit here if you want." Brittany found herself saying, mentally slapping herself in the forehead as she felt Monica pinch her side.

"No, that's okay…" Santana began.

"No, seriously. I don't think there are any empty, come on, sit down."

Santana bit her bottom lip and turned to Mercedes and Quinn who shrugged and slid into the booth. The silence between all five of them was unbearable and eventually Quinn left the booth to get another drink and Mercedes followed suit afterwards leaving Santana alone with Brittany and her date. Santana did the once over at both females, wondering if this was the kind of females Brittany usually dated. She was small in height and in weight; she had deep red hair and orange freckles dotted across her cheeks. She was ivory toned and her nails were freshly trimmed. Her outfit was okay if you liked retro and her shoes were comfortable-causal for the outing. She was… okay looking in Santana's opinion. Though her opinion didn't matter and the fact that she was thinking it did caused a sensation in her stomach she wasn't sure she knew how to describe. Was it jealousy? Guilt? Both?

"I'm bored." Monica announced, turning to Brittany, "Come dance with me."

"I'm not feelin' it right now." Brittany said, taking a sip of her beer.

"Whatever. I'm leaving." Monica sighed getting out of the booth, "Are you coming?"

Brittany looked at Monica and then at Santana who had turned her attention – pretending to and failing, actually – towards the DJ booth watching Tina and Artie on the floor.

"Nah, my friends would worry. I drove, remember?"

"I'll get a cab." Monica stated matter-of-factly before turning and leaving the two females alone.

"I don't know her." Brittany spoke up to Santana who turned to her with a confused brow. "Monica, I don't know her. She's just someone I met." Brittany found herself explaining and felt weird doing so. Why did she need to explain anything to Santana? They weren't a couple or anything close to it.

"Why are you explaining that to me?" Santana questioned, though glad she was doing so.

Brittany shrugged, "I… We… I don't know."

"You don't have to explain anything to me. We're not together. We're starting over and everything, right?"

"Yeah, well, starting over requires honesty at some level."

"I don't need to know about who you date though."

"I'm not dating anyone." She answered honestly. Santana smiled and sighed.

"Me either. Though I don't really date people."

"Why not?"

"You saw me at speed dating. It's all so trivial. I'm perfectly fine the way I am in my life."

"Alone?" Santana nodded, "Don't you get lonely?"

_All the time_, Santana thought to herself. "No. I'm perfectly fine with my love life."

"I don't buy that."

"Wasn't selling it." After a pause, Santana added, "Do _you_ get lonely?"

_All the time_, Brittany thought to herself. "Nope. Why would I be lonely? I don't date but I still screw whoever I want."

"Doesn't that get boring?"

"No." _Yes._

They grew silent. Santana's foot tapped against the table leg and Brittany's foot swayed in the air before long they were absentmindedly rubbing their feet against one another. They didn't mind – or more rather they didn't want to mind – Brittany loved the feel of Santana's soft skin connecting onto hers and Santana enjoyed the feel of such a small and simple notion as a foot touching her ankle. It had been so long since she had been touched so sweetly, so softly – the way Valerie once did. Her mind clicked back and she removed her leg from Brittany's grasp who whimpered silently at the loss of contact.

"I, um, I better go. Make sure 'Cedes and Q haven't run off with a random guy or something."

"What's the harm in that?" Brittany questioned, wanting just a little bit more time with her.

"Well, they're both married…"

"Oh yeah. So, you're the single lady with the married old women?"

"They're really great to be around, married or not. So are their husbands, though I'll never admit that to them." They giggled lightly, "But, um, yeah, I'm single. I guess."

"You guess?"

Santana wanted to elaborate on what she meant and how for a year she never truly felt single, just alone, but there was no way she was going to admit that. Not now and maybe not ever.

"I'll talk to you later…"

"Hey, wait." Brittany grabbed Santana's wrist, "Um, are we still going to hang out again? You never got back to me on it."

"Don't tell me you were missing my company." Santana said with a sly grin.

"What? Puh-lease, I just wanted to make sure I can fit you in in-between heated passion sessions with my others."

"Uh huh." Santana remarked, a little hurt by the side joke but hiding it well, "Give me your number. You never did give me your number."

"You could've asked Mercedes."

"I could've, but I didn't. I'm asking you. So, give me your number."

"So demanding." Brittany pulled out a pen and wrote her number down on Santana's hand.

"What are you doing? I meant put it in my phone!"

"I could've, but I didn't. I'm writing on you." Brittany mimicked in a teasing tone.

"Do you just keep pens on you for these reasons or…?"

Brittany shrugged, "You never know when a beautiful woman wants your number."

Santana rolled her eyes as Brittany closed the cap of the pen.

"Call me anytime." Santana sighed deeply and walked down the stairs, Brittany watching her movements, as she exited the noisy club and leaned against the wall taking out her phone and calling Brittany's number. Brittany smirked to herself as she felt her phone buzz and answered.

"So, how's next Friday sound to you?" Santana's voice echoed into Brittany's ears.

"Next Friday sounds perfect." Santana hung up the phone, a small smile on her face – though the smile was short lived as she found herself thinking of Valerie and a disapproving look on her face and she felt sick. So much so she turned towards the alley and threw up in the nearest trash can. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take this.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

...

**West Side LA – 2:58pm**

**One Year: Two Weeks: Five Days: Seventeen Hours: Twenty-Three Minutes**

**Outside Harper's Publishing Building**

A scowl formed on Santana's face as she listened to her publisher rant onwards in front of her. Usually when it came to business matters Santana tried to stay professional – despite her outbursts at times and her frank persona, not to mention her ways of making her editors cry – but she was respected which is why her editors, agents, and publishers stayed by her side. They knew she didn't mess around when it came to her book or her work and that when push came to shove she could always come through, but lately she was proving them wrong. She had promised them a manuscript of the final book to her popular series – The Elizabeth Jones Story – by the end of last week and had failed to come through. Despite telling Quinn she had already told her publishers she had discontinued the series she actually hadn't told anyone anything. She was weighing her time and weighing out her options which were slim to none. She did have a manuscript ready, that much was true on her part, but every time she went back over it or just picked it up her stomach twisted and she had to fling it across the room to take away the anxiety that built up inside her. Everyone knew her series was based off of her own life and the words she wrote down and the feelings she felt during each moment that Elizabeth went through was real for her. Too real. The way she wrote the unfinished manuscript was so heartbreaking and depressing that sometimes she couldn't believe she actually wrote it. She knew it would sell because everyone loved the way she told her story and so many people related to her – but that still didn't mean she wanted to share that part of her life. That part of Elizabeth's life. That torture and depression and hurt. Despite the bad times that most teenage lesbian fans had told her they endured she was sure they didn't want to hear what she had to say. And so that story wasn't going to be told.

"Look." Santana stated, putting her hand up to silence Collin, her publisher and friend, "I know I missed the deadline…"

"Missed? You didn't just miss the deadline. You ran it over with a car. Into my house. Into my house, Santana!"

"I get it."

"I don't think you do. We have deadlines for a reason."

"Collin, listen, I just… I need time, okay? You don't understand how difficult writing this last book is for me. This isn't just a final stone in Elizabeth's story; it's a stone in mine as well. Her dreams, her tears, her everything, that's me. Her memories are mine and I have to go through them every single time I write. Do you know how hard that is for me? And I know you're going to say make something up but I can't. And I know you all have given me ideas to work with and I tried to use them, but I just can't. _Candle_ and _Hot Like Fire_ have been my life stories wrapped into a package. Didn't you hear what Wendy Williams said about me? That I'm raw and I'm real and that people love that about me, I can't just go back and change that because my life sucked. I can't and I won't sugarcoat anything for anyone. I don't do that. I'm no bullshit. 100%. And writing what happened to me from graduating college is very hard for me. Just… I just need time." She said in an exasperated sigh.

Collin sighed; swallowing the sentence he had worked up to say and nodded his head in understanding, "How are you? I don't think any of us actually asked."

Santana shrugged, "Better, I guess. Been worse."

"We've been so busy thinking about this stupid deadline and the company's on my ass that I never stopped to think about how hard writing this would be for you." He paused, trying to find the right words, Santana guessed, "You took time off and we all…"

"Were behind me." Santana finished him, "I know. You respected my privacy, everyone did and I am grateful for that but… time heals all wounds, right? My abuela taught me that." _Before she disowned me._

"Take as much time as you need. We understand." Collin gave her a weak smile and stuffed his hands into his pockets, taking out his cell phone to make a call to his boss that the book would be delayed. Santana bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight onto her left foot.

"Do you think it's been long enough?" She questioned randomly, catching Collin off guard who looked at her in confusion and so she continued, "It's been a year. A little over a year actually. Do you think it's been long enough?"

"For you to get over it?" She shrugged, "Death is tricky, you know? It takes a while to get over something like that, sometimes we don't. When my gran-gran died it took me months to be happy again. She raised me, you know? How do you get over that? Or let it go? I love that woman. She took a chance on me when no one else did."

Santana sighed, running a hand through her silky black hair, "Yeah. I'll, um; I'll call you when I've had enough time to… I don't know. Write again."

"Take your time. We all get it. Take your time." He smiled at her once more before turning to walk away from her, already dialing his boss.

Santana sighed and began to walk in the opposite direction, taking out her own phone to go through her calendar. She had five meetings scheduled for the following week, all with her literary agent and she was in no mood to discuss her book with him or anyone else. She really wished she would've said she was discontinuing it but then she thought about her fans and she was stung with the painful feeling of letting them down.

"_You didn't let them down." Valerie said tenderly, rubbing her girlfriend's back with a small smile._

"_Are you kidding? Did you see their faces at the conference? They want the next book. The next chapter in Elizabeth's life. My life. And I haven't even written anything. I mean, I have, but it's not finished. I can't just leave the book on such a sour ending like that."_

"_Then pick up at a different point. A time jump maybe?" Santana sighed, placing her head in her hands as she sat on the couch in her small apartment with her girlfriend. Valerie had moved in less than a month ago and her stuff was still packed away in boxes against the wall._

"_You can unpack you know." Santana said offhandedly, changing the topic, now eyeing the boxes near the TV set._

"_But it gives the room such an unpacked feeling, don't you think?" Valerie teased, with a glint in her eyes._

"_You."_

"_Me?"_

"_That's it. You!" Valerie scrunched her nose in confusion and Santana continued onwards, "You're the answer to my road block. I ended Candle with Elizabeth going to Kentucky and going to college, but that's it. That's all I wrote. She was so happy to be starting over and what I have written is so bland and lacks interest, but you." She smiled as she looked at Valerie, "You are the cure to that."_

"_And how is that exactly?"_

"_Like you said, I'll make a time jump. My college life wasn't all that exciting anyway. A few parties and skipped classes here and there but nothing worthy to be put into detailed writing, but after I got out of college was when my journey began. I was struggling because here I am 22 with a BA in English. What do you do with a BA in English?" Santana asked rhetorically shaking her head, "I had lots of stupid jobs when I moved back home because I wanted so badly to get out of Ohio and make something of myself and eventually my mom found my diary and turned it into a book. And that's it! But, there's more. On my first big book signing I met the most gorgeous, hilarious, woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and that is when Elizabeth's journey will really begin. With you! Of course I'll have to change your name. What name do you like?"_

_Valerie thought it over for a minute, "Grace. It's my mom's name."_

"_Grace it is. Crap, I have to write this stuff down before I forget." Santana kissed Valerie's lips lightly and quickly got up from the couch and ran to her writing room but quickly reentered the den, "And please unpack those boxes, babe. It's almost as if you're scared to live here."_

"_I'm not, I'm just lazy." Santana shook her head as Valerie giggled – god she loved that sound, "I'll unpack, promise. Now go, go, write!" And with that Santana was down the hall into her writing room putting her brainstorming to good use._

"Someone's in deep thought." Santana heard a familiar voice state before looking up from her phone at a smiling Brittany.

"Are you stalking me?" She questioned with a teasing brow.

"Duh. You found me out. I thought I was so sneaky about it."

Santana pocketed her phone and shook her head, "Not even a little bit."

"What are you doing around here?"

"You're the stalker, shouldn't you be telling me?" Brittany rolled her eyes playfully bringing another grin to Santana's face, "I was meeting with my publisher. Didn't really go all that well. I write. I didn't mention that before."

"I know." Brittany said matter-of-factly beginning to walk hoping Santana would follow her and eventually she did, skipping to catch up to the blonde. She had longer legs so her strides were longer than Santana's.

"You know?"

"Who doesn't know who Santana Lopez is?" She asked rhetorically, "I've read your books. You have a way of writing that I don't think I've ever read before. Sometimes I got lost because you used a lot of big words, but it was nice. Kind of sad, but nice."

"I can't believe you read my book." She stated in disbelief.

"Oh please, don't be so shocked. Everyone read your book. Except Rachel. She proclaims 'if it's not about Barbra then I don't care.'" She said, giving her best Rachel impersonation.

"Barbra?"

"Streisand. She lives for that woman."

"She's into theatre and stuff?"

"That's an understatement. She lives for Broadway. I'm sure she'd marry it if it was legal."

"She would get along with my friend Kurt well then."

"Kurt? Wait, you're not talking about Kurt Hummel are you?" Santana nodded, "Rachel would flip a switch when she finds out you're friends with Kurt Hummel."

"We went to school together." She said offhandedly, "He was just that overly gay guy I hung out with. Now he's on Broadway, he thinks he's the shit now. He's also a fashion designer."

"Oh, I know. Rachel is peeved she can't afford his clothes."

"He's coming here sometime this week. I could ask him to bring something for her? It's not like he'd say no to me."

"No way, you'd do that for her?"

_If it'll make you happy_. "Um, yeah, it's not a big deal really. He owes me a few favors anyway." Santana shrugged, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"On my way to work." Brittany replied as if it was obvious, "I work at Doc's sometimes remember?"

"Oh yeah, how could I forget that?" Santana giggled, feeling her stomach feel with something suddenly. It wasn't queasy as it usually was, it was different, almost, butterfly feeling.

"Do you just write? Like, you don't have another job or anything?" Santana shook her head, "Your books must really sell."

"Still do. I love to compare myself to J.K. I'm not all that successful, but I make a good living with it. Plus I save most of it; I don't really shop or buy things I don't need." She shrugged, "I know how to use my money wisely. My mother taught me that."

"What else did your mother teach you?"

"Oh you know, boring stuff. How to kill a person without getting caught, how to bury a body, just boring things like that." Santana joked, though Brittany wasn't amused and for a minute thought she was serious which only made the writer laugh harder. "I'm joking, relax."

"You're kind of scary sometimes."

"I take pride in that actually, so thank you."

They reached Brittany's job a bit too fast for Santana's liking and she sighed quietly.

"Hey, I know we said we're hanging out this Friday but what are you doing tonight? Anything important? Killing anyone? Burying any bodies?" Santana giggled and shook her head, "Sweet. Meet me back here tonight at 7. That's when I get off."

"Can I get a hint to what we're doing?"

"Nah." She dragged out with a small smile, "See you tonight gorgeous."

Santana sighed as Brittany disappeared into the restaurant and bit her bottom lip as she watched the girl from the glass door. She was truly beautiful and not in the sense that she flaunted her body and knew she was beautiful; no, Santana was sure Brittany knew she was beautiful but she didn't brag about her looks and that was a turn on for her. Not to mention she didn't use too much make-up, or any at all really, and she dressed comfortable yet still was attractive with a simple pair of jeans and a V-neck shirt. That queasy feeling rose once again into Santana's stomach, but she ignored it. Or at least tried to. Maybe it had been long enough and maybe it was time to move on, so why exactly did she feel like she was cheating on Valerie?

* * *

**West Side LA – 7:13pm**

**One Year: Two Weeks: Five Days: Twenty-One Hours: Thirty-Eight Minutes**

**Doc's**

Santana tapped her foot impatiently in the waiting area of Doc's; she checked her golden wristwatch every so often growing annoyed every time the minute hand went further down the clock. She hated to be kept waiting, not to mention she was the most impatient person on Earth. Her patience was running thin when Brittany lightly jogged towards her in her work uniform and took a deep sigh looking apologetic as she caught her breath – somehow, the sight of her changed Santana's demeanor all together.

"I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. The play ran a little longer than expected. Rachel decided to do a different version of the same song she does every night and this included longer notes and all of that crap. Anyway I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Santana said dismissively, "Are you going to change or…?" She questioned looking down at Brittany's attire causing Brittany to do the same.

"Oh, um, yeah, but I left my clothes back home. Do you mind if we swing by my place first before we get going? I hate this damn thing." She tugged at the collar of her maroon waitress outfit causing Santana to giggle.

"What? What's so funny? This thing always strangles me."

"Nothing, I just… I just remember when I was a waitress, that's all."

"You were?"

"Yeah, I worked at home in Ohio at BreadstiX. That restaurant I told you about? It was kind of brutal. I don't envy you."

"It's not that bad. The uniform is the worse for me. I hate uniforms." She gaged in disgust, "Though I was a cheerleader in high school. I liked that uniform but only because the skirt really complimented my ass. I'll be right back; I have to get my bag."

"I'll be here."

A few minutes passed and Brittany reemerged with her bag swung over her shoulder and a warm smile on her face. That smile was starting to grow on the brunette.

"Ready?" Brittany questioned.

"Definitely."

They walked out into the night air and a chill swarmed through Santana's spine; she shivered lightly and without notice felt a warm fabric covering her shoulders. She looked down to find a small jacket over her shoulders; she turned to Brittany who merely shrugged with a light smile.

"Did you drive here?" She questioned.

"I took a cab actually. Did you?"

"Nope, cab. I was really hoping you brought your car. Though we can always walk to my place. It's not that far actually."

"You live in West LA?"

"Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

"It's not, I was just asking."

...

The walk to Brittany's apartment wasn't as far as Santana had anticipated and once inside she took an interest in the way the bartender lived. The apartment was tiny, smaller than her's, and there were picture frames all around the home. Many of the faces Santana obviously didn't know but figured that the majority of the blonde haired people were relatives of Brittany; she assumed at least one of the brunettes in the photos were Rachel as there were many of her and she was best friends with Brittany after all. The rest she wasn't even going to attempt at guessing. The walls were brightly colored aqua and the furniture was cream colored; it was actually a pretty set up. Lots of stuffed animals on shelves and duck fixtures – wallpaper, statues, and slippers – were around the house as well, at least the part Santana saw. It was definitely different than what she was used to.

Brittany returned from the back room in yoga pants and an oversized dancer's tank with sneakers causing Santana to arch a curious eyebrow as she looked down at her attire of a pencil skirt and blouse.

"I think I'm overdressed." She said with a chuckle.

"You can borrow some of my stuff. I think I have something to fit you. You are kind of small."

"I'm fun sized."

"Or, you know, short." Brittany said bluntly, folding her arms with a teasing brow causing Santana to lightly hit her in the arm. "Come on." Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and led her towards her bedroom – the queasy feeling returned in Santana's stomach as they neared the end of the hall. Brittany entered first, dropping Santana's hand and looking through her walk-in closet for something for the brunette to wear. This gave Santana a chance to look around her room. It was very different from the duck-childlike theme that covered the front part of the house. The room was more mature and adult with maroon walls and a black satin bed set to match. The dresser had limited make-up, though that didn't surprise Santana much, but there was a giant circular mirror and a lot of photos that cascaded the walls and mirrors edge. Santana walked towards the pictures eying them, wondering who all the different people were – Brittany sure did have a lot of friends.

"That's Rachel." Brittany said, sneaking up behind Santana causing her to jump slightly, "Oh and that's Dean." Brittany continued pointing to the different faces on the mirror, "He's like a brother. Oh and that's Jackson, Jessie, Mandy, Lauren…"

"Who are all these people?"

"Friends from home, exes, just really cool people I once knew in another life."

"You kept all of these photos?"

"I like to document important people in my life. Even if we don't talk like we used to or at all I still keep their photo for a memory."

"Doesn't that… I don't know, make you hurt or something?"

Brittany shook her head, "Sometimes. But people come in your life for a reason right? To hurt or to heal, a lot of people on this wall were to heal me."

"Heal you from what?"

Brittany smiled at Santana, "Don't go anywhere." She said as she left the room and disappeared only to return a few seconds later with a camera.

"What are you…?"

"I want to document this moment."

"But, why?"

"Like I said, I like to document important people in my life."

"I'm… I'm important to you?"

"Well, yeah. You're a really great friend to me. Plus, I like you. Come on, smile for me." Brittany turned the device on and snapped a shot at Santana who giggled lightly afterwards.

"I don't think I smiled…"

Brittany looked at the photo through the small screen and shook her head, "You didn't. Smile for me, Santana. Please?" Santana sighed lightly and smiled a bit, "Oh come on you can do better than that." Santana's smile grew wider, but not to Brittany's liking. She placed the camera on the dresser and grabbed Santana to sit beside her on the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Maybe you'll smile when I'm next to you, besides I want to be in the photo too. Come on, we only have like 10 seconds. Smile beautiful." Brittany wrapped an arm around Santana and she felt her stomach loop in a tightening position, but it wasn't a queasy one but something she had felt before. She had felt this earlier but she couldn't place it. She smiled lightly at the camera as it flashed and Brittany quickly jumped up to see the finish product. She turned the device and showed it to Santana with a grin, "See? You're incredibly beautiful when you smile. Oh!" She put the camera down and went to her closet and handed a work-out outfit to Santana, "Here you go. You can change in the bathroom. It's through there." She pointed to a door beside the mirror.

"Where exactly are we going?" Santana questioned but Brittany merely hummed as she picked up her camera and began to go through it. Santana sighed and went into the bathroom to change – her patience was surprisingly not running as thin as expected.

After a few minutes Santana reemerged from the bathroom in Brittany's clothes feeling a bit silly in them.

"Hey my clothes fit you well." Brittany smirked but Santana folded her arms over her chest, squirming in the outfit, "What's wrong? Pants too tight or something?"

"No." She shook her head, "I just… feel weird in your clothes."

"Why?"

_Because the last female's clothes I shared was Valerie's._ "I just do."

"Awe, don't. You look amazing." Brittany walked over towards Santana and unfolded her arms and placed them to her side looking Santana into those melting chocolate eyes. God, she was beautiful. "You're perfect in anything."

"I'm not perfect." Santana stated firmly.

"To me you are." Brittany said without missing a beat.

"You barely know me."

"I know enough. Don't put yourself down, Santana. You know your books paint a different picture of you. Elizabeth is so confident, so in your face, but you're not. I know people change, but I don't know…" Her voice trailed on.

Santana shrugged, "There's a lot about me you don't know and I'm sure you don't want to know."

"Not true. I want to know everything about you, Santana."

"Why? I'm not that interesting."

"You don't have to be interesting for me to want to know everything about you."

"But, I'm just… me."

"Try me. Tell me something about yourself that I don't know."

Santana bit her lip thinking, "I ran into a fence once. I was five and I was playing hide and seek with my dad and I ran into a fence to get to him. It wasn't all that bad. I had a scratch and I cried, but I was five." She shrugged.

"I've never ran into a fence before. Fell out of a tree though. Hurt my leg really badly, I had a cast and everything. It was pretty cool though. I was… ten I think." Quick pause, "Come on, what else? I'm not bored yet."

Santana sighed but continued talking and before long she found herself reliving old memories with Brittany who relived her own memories in return. Eventually the two forgot about the original plan and spent the entire night talking to one another. Brittany learned a lot of things about Santana, but it was what Santana didn't vocalize that Brittany took note of. Like, how her eyes darted rapidly when she brought up her old glee club and performing or how she played with her fingers when she mentioned her grandparents. The way her smile became wide when she talked about her friends and how it lost it shine when she mentioned work; though while Brittany was watching Santana, Santana was watching Brittany. She noticed how she played with her hair when she was nervous of a reaction or how those oceanic eyes became animated at the mention of dancing. Her entire demeanor changed to sorrow when she brought up high school, but quickly shot back when she bragged about her sports car obsession. Before long the two women were so wrapped up in each other they didn't realize the time.

"Holy hell, it's passed 2. I should get home." Santana said, getting off the bed quickly looking for her keys.

"But it's so late. Just crash here."

"I…I couldn't."

Brittany waved her hand dismissively, "It's late and I can tell you're tired because your eyes are all dull looking."

"They always look like that." Santana argued.

"No, they don't." Brittany stated firmly, "Just rest here. You can even take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"I couldn't put you out…"

"It's not a problem, seriously. I can sleep anywhere. You can sleep in that if you want, but my pajamas are in the top drawer over there." She pointed towards the dresser as she got off of the bed, "I'll be in the den if you need me. Sleep well, beautiful." She smiled sweetly at Santana before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

Santana sighed, biting her bottom lip as she opened the pajama drawer and looked at the pajamas. Lots of ducks and bunnies were on them and she giggled lightly, shaking her head at the clothing. Usually she would've scoffed at the idea of wearing anything so silly but it was Brittany's and that changed her perspective of them. She slid out of the work-out attire and pulled on the pajamas feeling the cotton touch her body, it felt warm, so warm. She took in Brittany's scent but before she could enjoy it she felt her breath get hitched in her throat and felt her stomach tighten once more. It was back to that queasy feeling. She ran towards the bathroom and prepared for the usual routine, but she took a deep breath and stepped back from the toilet.

"No." She said shaking her head, "I… I can't. Not here… I can't." She moved out of the bathroom and slid into Brittany's bed, her warm sheets falling effortlessly onto her body. She was in control of her feelings, of her emotions, of her stomach and for the first time she went to bed realizing it.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** It's been a while, huh? Had a little technical difficulties and couldn't get my muse right not to mention college is a bitch, but I'm back and I come with chapters! Hopefully it won't take another 2 or so months for the next update. I don't really have a lot to say about this chapter except that I hope you all enjoy it and feedback is much appreciated. (:

* * *

Chapter 8

...

**Downtown LA – 5:59pm**

**One Year: Three Weeks: One Day: Twenty Hours: Twenty-Four Minutes**

**Starlet Lounge**

"No way!"

"Yes, way! So, I tell her, I say, 'Isabelle, sweetie, leather is so not in right now.' And you know what she says? She goes, 'Kurt, you're right. Cancel the leather, get me some denim.'" Kurt nodded smugly, "True story, true story."

"I can't believe you're actually working with Isabelle Wright, she's like a God in the fashion industry. She's _the_ person to work with. I am extremely jealous." Mercedes said, sipping on her beer.

"It's really amazing, but you know when I'm not working with her I'm mentoring Johnny. He's one of those hopeful students at NYADA that Carmen Tibideaux sees some form of me in and wants me to help him along the way. She's offered me a position there at least ten times now but I can't do that. I'm not that great of a teacher." Kurt shrugged, "Oh, I forgot to tell you." He turns his attention to Quinn, "Adam wants to set up an appointment with you in the near future. He's moving here."

"Wait, he's moving here? Are you moving too?"

"Oh no, I couldn't. I still have so much work to do in New York but when my work is finished I will. We're going to try our luck at long distance love; he's moving here because his job wants him to, but anyway he'll call you about setting up an appointment."

"I can't imagine what he'd want to set up an appointment with Q for." Santana chimed in, getting a stern look from Quinn which she ignored, "All I'm saying is that therapy is a bunch of crap."

"I have you know that I have helped many people with their problems in the past."

"And it only took what? Half of their bank accounts to do it?"

"Are you saying I'm ripping people off?"

"All I'm _saying_ is that therapy is a bunch of crap."

Quinn rolled her eyes – not wanting to mention that Santana had therapy in the past - and took a long gulp of her gin and tonic which Sam later whispered for her to slow down on. The six friends were seated at the Starlet Lounge in a wide booth in the back of the bar sipping on beers and eating day old peanuts while Kurt – who had just arrived in town a few hours earlier – talked about his adventures in New York. Rachel winced in her seat at the bar as she watched them talk and felt a pinch of jealousy and anxiousness well up inside of her.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Brittany whispered to her friend who turned to her and rolled her eyes.

"That should be me."

"Which one? Mercedes or maybe Quinn or…"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about." She paused, turning her attention back to the table, "Do you not see what kind of life I could have if I got into NYADA? Broadway, fashion…"

"Fashion?" Brittany arched an eyebrow which Rachel turned to scowl at her for before turning her attention back to the table.

"Fine, maybe not fashion, but Broadway; why couldn't I have that life?" She turned back to her friend, "I deserved it. I_ deserve_ it."

"Yes, you do, but hey no one is stopping you from trying to get that dream. You know that right? The only person who is stopping you from getting that dream, is, well, you." Rachel opened her mouth to speak but stopped realizing her friend was right.

"Hey ladies." They both turned their attention to Quinn who had appeared beside them with a smile on her lips. Brittany could obviously tell that she was tipsy and it amused her for some odd reason to see the petite blonde in a bit of a haze.

"Hey yourself." Brittany replied.

"Can we get another round at our table? My treat this time."

"No problem." Brittany went to work looking for the drinks when Rachel found herself eying Quinn before landing on her lips and eying her lipstick. Her eyes narrowed and she sucked her teeth without notice.

"I like your lipstick." She said offhandedly.

Quinn tried to look at her lips and realized it was difficult before giggling drunkenly, "Oh, thanks. My husband loves it. I call it my bait. I used to wear it all the time when I wanted to get a guy or something." She shrugged, "I actually lost my tube." She frowned slightly, "But Sam, my husband, bought me another one. He's amazing. My husband." She rambled.

"What shade is that? I don't believe I've seen that on a lot of people."

"Oh, um…" She squinted her eyes trying to remember, "118 Bois de Rose." She nodded finally getting the color, "I love it. I wore it a lot in high school. Do you want a tube? I can get you one maybe."

"No, that's alright." Rachel stated, her eyes moving from Quinn's lips to her eyes and a weak smile forming on her own lips, "I'll stick to my shade. Thanks."

"Here you go. Round for you and your table." Brittany said not paying much attention to the two handing the drinks to Quinn.

"Thanks, hey, Santana wants you two to come over to the table when you get a chance. I think Sam has something for you Brittany." She turned and walked away and Rachel eyed her as she left a sneer on her face.

"What's your issue?" Brittany questioned, nudging her friend.  
"Did you see her lipstick?" Brittany shook her head, "It was the same color as the tube I found in Puck's pocket!"

"Lots of women wear lipstick, you realize this right?"

"Did you also notice how she had to continue to talk about Sam? She had to repeat that he was her husband as if she had forgotten or something."

"You're crazy. You're _making_ yourself crazy. I told you to dump Puck a while ago anyway."

"I'm not crazy, I'm telling you something is up and I don't trust Quinn at all."

Brittany shook her head and smiled, "Come on, Nancy Drew, let's go see what these kids want. Hey Finn! Can you man the bar?"

A crash was heard in the back of the bar and Brittany just rolled her eyes as Finn Hudson, a tall slightly awkward male, came out from the stock room. "Um, yeah, yeah Brittany I can do that."

"Don't break anything, okay? Just hand people drinks. Don't get cute or fancy, just hand them drinks. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

Brittany exited from behind the bar and Rachel followed her, "Who is that again?"

"Finn Hudson, he's our newest bartender. He sucks. Like literally. At everything. I don't know why Mr. Jones insisted on hiring more help but whatever. I had to train him and it was like training a duck. Actually no, ducks are easier to train. It was like training a train!"

"You can't train… never mind."

Brittany walked up towards the table with a small smile on her face as she saw Santana first; Santana's attention was directed towards her beer bottle but sooner or later she spied the blonde hair and a smile came onto her lips slowly as she looked up to see Brittany and Rachel. She was right in assuming the girl in the many photos in Brittany's house was Rachel.

"Hey." Brittany said through a smile, her eyes locked on Santana alone as Sam, Quinn, Mercedes, Mike, and Kurt all replied back to her with polite hellos.

"This is Brittany everyone." Quinn introduced the taller blonde as Santana continued to sip on her beer nervously.

"Oh, so _you're_ Brittany." Kurt stated Brittany turned her attention to Kurt with a confused brow, "I've heard about you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Depends on who's telling it." Mercedes giggled.

"And who is this?" Kurt asked his attention to Rachel now.

"This is my best friend, Rachel. She's a huge fan." Rachel nudged Brittany in the ribs who let out a low "Ow"

"I, um, I followed your career." Rachel chimed in quietly, "You were incredible in Grace Swan." Kurt smiled proudly as Rachel continued on her fangirlness – though adding her on bits of how he could've improved and what she would've done differently. The ivory male didn't find her information useful and dismissed it, but enjoyed her enthusiasm.

"Sam, give Brittany the thing." Santana finally spoke up softly, kicking her blonde haired friend in the shin.

"Jesus, alright, relax." Sam said, pulling out a package from beside him and handed it to Brittany who took it a bit surprised. "Open it." He instructed and Brittany did as she was told and gasped at what she was holding.

"No fuckin' way!" She enthused, "I've waited ages for a new one." Brittany flipped through the pages of the rough copy of Sam's new comic and smiled as the breeze of the pages blew her hair back. Santana snickered quietly, enjoying how dorky she appeared. Though she smacked herself mentally for even thinking of Brittany like that, despite her best interests she still felt wrong for liking the girl.

"I know. San told me that you might be interested in some new material so I made that one up for you. It's still rough around the edges but I hope you like it." Brittany turned her attention back to the beautiful brunette and smiled gratefully in her direction.

"Don't you two have a thing?" Mike asked, all eyes shifting to him, "I meant are you two going out tonight?"

"Oh, y-yeah, right." Santana stammered.

"Where are you two crazy kids off too?" Kurt questioned.

Brittany shrugged, "She won't tell me."

"Surprises, huh? I thought you hated surprises?" Mercedes asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I do, when they're directed towards me. This one isn't."

"What makes you think I like surprises?" Brittany asked arching a challenging eyebrow and placing her hands on her hips.

"You told me so."

Brittany went over in her thought bubble and smiled when she realized she had. It wasn't her fault really; when it came to Santana it seemed the blonde couldn't shut up. She was sure Santana knew her entire life story and come to think of it, she was sure she knew Santana's as well.

"Come on, let me out the booth. I don't wanna be late and you may want to change."

Brittany looked down at her clothes as Santana was let out of the booth by Sam and Quinn.

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"They're not exactly suitable for where we're going."

"I'd wish you tell me where."

Santana closed her mouth and pretended to lock it, placing the invisible key into her pocket. Brittany rolled her eyes and sighed. Despite how she was acting on the outside, she was enjoying this cat and mouse game of trying to figure out where the brunette was taking her. So far, she had come up with nothing.

"See you guys later." Santana called out to them and she grabbed Brittany's wrist, leading her away.

"Don't come back pregnant!" She heard her friends shout at them and rolled her eyes at their insanity.

* * *

**Downtown LA – 8:05pm**

**One Year: Three Weeks: One Day: Twenty-Two Hours: Thirty Minutes**

**Catscratch Club**

Brittany was a little nervous, to say the least, about where exactly Santana was taking her not to mention the brunette's snickers and smirks throughout their car ride were less than appeasing to her. Brittany had changed into something to Santana's liking – and her liking as well – a beautiful slimming white dress and a pair of sensible heels. Santana was in awe of her attire and for the most of five minutes she literally just stared at the blonde. Brittany wanted to bring her back to Earth with a kiss but settled on a snap of the fingers which made the writer snap back into reality and smiled at her as she changed into her own pair of clothing. She had a bag in the car that she brought along with her and when she changed from her tight shirt, skinny jeans, and boots into an elegant blouse and skirt it was Brittany's turn to be in awe. Despite their inner turmoil they both found it incredibly hard not to find the other attractive, though Santana kept trying to remind herself that nothing could happen between them but her best interest was losing hope the longer she stayed in Brittany's company. Brittany had her own struggles she was dealing with but found them almost invisible when it came to Santana; at least she wasn't some random hook-up that was something Brittany knew for sure.

"Will you quit it?" Brittany whined from the passenger seat, her eyes turning to Santana as her giggles continued.

"Quit what?"

"Your giggling. I feel like I'm going to walk into a trap or something." Santana smirked and shook her head which caused the bartender to roll her eyes teasingly, "Oh stop that." She said, trying to sound firm but failing.

"I'll try my best." Quick pause, "You know, you do look beautiful in that dress."

Brittany looked down at her attire and smiled, "Thanks, so do you, but you always look beautiful."

"How do you manage to do that?" Santana asked without thinking.

"Do what?" Brittany furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Make me feel so…" Santana let her voice trail off because there were so many words she wanted to use. Beautiful. Special. Cared for. But she settled for a simple, not so leading word, "Vain. You're boosting my ego."

Brittany eyed Santana, knowing, for some reason she wasn't aware of, that that wasn't the word Santana truly wanted to use, but she dismissed the thought and shrugged, "Years of practice I guess. Though hey you're boosting my ego too."

"It's a gift." The writer smirked playfully as they both fell silent and let the sounds of the car tires hitting the pavement soothe them as they neared downtown. Brittany let her gaze travel towards the window and she watched the lights reflect on the window and she smiled at her own amusement. Santana saw Brittany's smile out of the corner of her eye and smiled in return; she had no idea what made the bartender so giddy, but it seemed now that whenever she caught sight of Brittany's pearly whites she couldn't help but smile back whether the smile was directed towards her or not.

After a few minutes of driving Santana finally pulled into a small parking lot and parked near the building and sighed happily to herself when she cut off the engine and Brittany began to look through the front window to see where they had come to – her attention had still been outside the window when they arrived and she was now more confused than ever.

"Come on." Santana encouraged, getting out of the car first. Brittany followed her lead, biting her lip nervously as she caught up in step with Santana.

"I have no idea where we are." Brittany confessed.

"Really? You've never been here? Hm, even better."

They entered the small building and the vibe was already dazzling the blonde as her eyes floated around the room. From the bar – that she took note that the bartender was trying too hard – to the couples on the dance floor and finally the singer who filled the room with a jazzy-RnB tone.

"Did I just step into the 1970s?" Brittany questioned with a scrunched up nose which made Santana shake her head with a giggle and loop their arms together as she led them towards a small high table in the back of the building. "You like jazz?"

"Sort of. I like almost all music really." Santana said with a smile, her eyes resting on the singer for a moment. Brittany followed her gaze and smirked.

"You should totally get up there."

Santana turned to her with surprise, "What? No. I don't sing anymore."

"What? Why not? You told me all those stories about how you helped win your glee club to Sections or something like that."

"_Sectionals_, yeah, but so what? That was so long ago."

"You're just making excuses." Brittany paused, leaning back in her chair looking at the singer, "I bet you sound better than her."

"Oh, I _know_ I sound better than her."

"See? All the more reason."

"I didn't come here to sing, I came here to show you a great time. This is a dance club after all."

Brittany leaned forward, placing her hand onto her cheek and shook her head, "Hm, I don't know. I don't dance anymore."

"Brittany."

Brittany sighed teasingly, "Santana."

"I don't sing anymore." She said growing frustrated though it was proving difficult as Brittany continued to stare at her with those beautiful oceanic eyes, which only seemed to glow in the club lighting. "I wouldn't even know what to sing." She insisted, folding her arms across her chest in a child-like fashion.

"Sing whatever you want. This is your era after all."

"Are you calling me old?" Brittany simply giggled. Santana sighed. "If I sing, you have to dance."

"Deal, your old highness." Santana rolled her eyes, getting off the chair and biting her lip nervously. She hadn't sung since Valerie was alive and the thought of singing now made her stomach tighten with a queasy anxiety. Brittany hadn't noticed how slow Santana was moving, her attention had been transfixed on the salsa dancers on the side who seemed to be in a world of their own. God she missed dancing. That passion, that energy, that warm feeling throughout her body she always felt – though that could've been the sweat forming throughout her body, but nonetheless. Despite wanting to dance at Mike's studio she hadn't danced since college. _Guess tonight is the night for old passions to arise_, she thought, as her attention turned to Santana who was now shaking a bit as she whispered into the stage manager's ear that she wanted to sing.

_Don't think about her, don't think about her, don't think about her,_ Santana continued to think over in her mind. The last thing she needed was visions of Valerie in her head as she sang, she would sure to break and she couldn't. Not here. Not now.

"Alright, alright, that was the sweet soul sounds of Aretha Franklin's _A Rose is still a Rose_ sung by our very own Kitty Wilde." The crowd paused their actions to applause, "Alright, now I want you to get off your butts and let me see you shake somethin' for our next performer singing that sweet and sexy sounds of Fontella Bass's Rescue Me." The announcer got off the stage and turned to Santana, "Don't mess up, kid. This ain't no karaoke night. You wanna sing? Bring it." He paused and smiled at her slightly, "Good luck." He whispered at her before she nervously took center stage.

This was her safe place, the one place in the entire world where she always felt the most ready the most able, but right now Santana Lopez was about to crack under the pressure. Small murmurs around her while eyes glued themselves on her face ready for her to speak, or move, or do anything really.

"You can do it." She saw Brittany mouthed and smiled lightly at her as she turned towards the band and bit her bottom lip as the music started up behind her. She weakly cleared her throat, ready to take the microphone but it fell down on the stage causing a loud blaring throughout the club. Brittany looked on nervously as Santana picked it up and mentally slapped herself.

_Get your shit together, Lopez. This isn't you. You're confident. What is this?_

"_You know your books paint a different picture of you. Elizabeth is so confident, so in your face, but you're not. I know people change, but I don't know…"_

Maybe Brittany was right. Maybe she did change and it wasn't for the better. She took a deep breath as Brittany stood up, she assumed ready to pick up the microphone in case it fell again, but it wasn't about to fall. No, Santana Lopez was about to be damned if she chickened out.

_Rescue me  
Oh take me in your arms  
Rescue me  
I want your tender charms  
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue  
I need you and your love too_

The crowd began to nod to the music and slowly made their way towards the dance floor, as Santana squeezed the microphone feeling the beat of the music sweep through her body. A smile on her lips as she danced around lightly on the stage, twirling around and stopping back into her position as before.

_Come on and rescue me  
Come on baby and rescue me  
Come on baby and rescue me  
'Coz I need you, by my side  
Can't you see that I'm lonely  
Rescue me_

Brittany made her way towards the dance floor and soon was swept over by the drums and piano keys as well as Santana's voice. She had such an amazing voice. She never heard anyone sing the way she did. So much passion and soul, but with a bit of hurt through her words. It was hard to tell where the reality of the song ended and where the song just for dancing began, but Brittany knew there was no one on this planet like Santana Lopez and she was glad of that. She wasn't sure she could handle that amount of amazing.

_Come on and take my heart  
Take your love and conquer every part  
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue  
I need you and your love too_

Brittany danced her way through the crowd towards the stage where Santana stood; she winked in the brunette's direction who smiled through her lyrics at her. Santana surveyed the room, happy that she still had it in her, that she still was able to control a room with her voice and man had she missed that drive.

_Come on and rescue me  
Come on baby and rescue me  
Come on baby and rescue me  
'Coz I need you by my side  
Can't you see that I'm lonely_

The dance break took place and Santana clapped her hands together, doing her own dance on the stage before walking out on the dance floor and dancing with Brittany. She couldn't put in words how amazing Brittany's dancing was, she wasn't even sure if she would be able to keep up. The woman was incredible; it was like her feet had a mind of its own. They giggled together, their eyes dancing in the same way as their legs before Santana caught something out the side of her eye. A blur maybe, a flash of light, she wasn't sure, but when she turned to find the source her heart tighten and she nearly fell over on top of Brittany.

Valerie.

She was sure of it. She knew that body anywhere. She stood with her back to Santana before turning around to reveal her face and Santana's stomach only tightened worse. That smile, that shy but oh so intimidating smile, and those hypnotic hazel eyes. Her mind raced with a thousand and one thoughts, trying to piece together how in the hell that was possible. She had to be losing it, she had to be seeing something that wasn't there, but she seemed so real. She looked so real and Santana was so willing to leave her date and find out but the dance break ended and she felt the blonde pull on her arm to get her attention to conclude the song. She turned to Brittany and smirked as she sang her way back to the stage.

_Rescue me  
Oh take me in your arms  
Rescue me  
I want your tender charms  
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue  
I need you and your love too  
Come on and rescue me  
Come on baby, take me baby, hold me baby, love me baby  
Can't you see that I need you baby  
Can't you see that I'm lonely  
Rescue me_

Once she reached the stage and looked out to find that face again, that beautiful chocolate face, she had disappeared. Somewhere in between dancers or seats, she had vanished and Santana was left feeling queasy and guilty – more so than normal.

_Come on and take my hand  
Come on baby and be my man  
'cause I love you 'cause I want you  
Can't you see that I'm lonely?  
take me baby  
love me baby  
need me baby  
Can't you see that I'm lonely?_

rescue me, rescue me...

She didn't finish the song as strongly as she would've liked, but how could she? Her mind was swimming with a thousand and one thoughts and she had to get off that stage and maybe just maybe away from Brittany. Brittany. The blonde was whistling at her from the dance floor not noticing much of what the singer was going through and maybe that was for the best. This was for the best. The two of them couldn't be anything but friends. No matter how much Santana was beginning to fall for her, she knew it was wrong. The whole thing was wrong. All wrong.

* * *

**West Side LA – 10:27pm**

**One Year: Three Weeks: Two Days: Fifty-Two Minutes**

**Outside Brittany's Apartment**

"Hey, are you okay? You haven't really said much since the club." Brittany questioned, the silence in the car proving too powerful for her. She turned to Santana whose hand was on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning a flash shade of white.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look it." Brittany gently grabbed Santana's hand and she sighed into the contact, releasing her grip from the wheel and leaning back into the seat. "What's wrong? You can talk to me."

"I'm sorry. I ruined tonight and I…"

"Ruined it? Are you kidding?" Santana turned to Brittany with confusion, "I got to not only hear your amazing voice but I got to dance again. I haven't danced in so long, San. Since college."

"You called me San." Santana blushed at the familiar nickname.

"Oh, do you not like it? Your name is kind of long. _Santana_." Brittany dragged out the Latina's name which made her giggle in response. "Oh hey a giggle. I got you to giggle. I think I deserve a medal."

"No medals. Sorry."

"Damn, you're supposed to keep medals on standby just for these special moments."

Santana shook her head, "My bad."

"I guess it's okay. I can't stay mad at you for too long anyway."

"Yeah? I'll have to remember that."

"Don't get too cocky about that." Brittany teased, "Are you sure you're okay though?"

Santana sighed, "I will be, yeah."

Brittany leaned in absentmindedly and kissed Santana's forehead. The touch sent a chill down the brunette's spine as she wasn't used to such contact and backed up a bit.  
"I… Sorry. I know you don't like that. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

"No, I…" Santana leaned forward, "Don't apologize. I… I like it." She shrugged.

"Really? Good. Forehead kisses are my specialty." Brittany leaned in and whispered, her breath teasing Santana's ear, "But I have a lot more." Brittany pulled back and eyed Santana, daring her to test her. Santana gulped, biting her bottom lip. This was so wrong. Everything about this situation was so wrong. Her stomach tighten harshly, causing a cramping pain in her side but as Brittany looked into her deep brown eyes, looking for a warning – a sign – that Santana didn't want to kiss her, Santana felt her mind swim with a thousand and one things before long Brittany's lips were pressed against hers.

Her lips were warm and soft, a sweet taste of strawberries and vodka danced around on Brittany's lips and Santana melted into the contact. Her mind fluttered with miscommunicated images of Valerie and Brittany and every memory she had with both women and as Brittany deepened the kiss the images became clearer and her stomach tightened intensely as she felt moisture enter into her mouth realizing it was Brittany's tongue. Without realization she had whimpered into the kiss, her hand pressing on Brittany's back begging for contact. Her mind and body were fighting against her.

Her body begged to be touched, to be held, to be kept warm while her mind fought with the images of Valerie. Wanting, no _needing_, to keep her image alive. God, why was this so hard? Why was this so wrong but felt so good? So damn good.

Brittany released their lips – needing air, and Santana needing her mind to shut the hell up. Brittany looked from Santana's eyes to her lips, their faces still inches apart, "Tell me you want me to stop." She whispered, "I need you to tell me to stop."

"Why?" Santana questioned, her heart racing as her stomach felt like it had slid down to her feet.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to take you – right here, right now – I'm going to take you and have my way with you in this car. I won't stop kissing, touching, and licking parts of you. I will do things to you that'll make Fifty Shades look like a children's book, but I know that you're not ready for that. I know that as amazing as you feel right now you're not ready. So, tell me. Tell me you want me to stop."

Santana licked her lips, swallowing her thoughts, trying to refrain herself. She hated herself for these inner battles and these inner feelings. She needed so badly for release, for Brittany's hands on her body, her tongue inside of her, her fingers inside of her, her lips pressed against her own. She needed that warmth that climax, that orgasm, that night. She needed, more than anything, to feel good for once in over a year. But her mind continued to flash images and questions. Would she yell at Brittany to get out the way she did before? Would she vomit at the sight of Brittany being in Valerie's spot? Would she yell out the wrong name? Would she feel truly happy afterwards or ashamed?

Santana sighed, "Stop."

Brittany pulled back and sat back into the passenger seat, "I better go then." She opened the car door, but was stopped when Santana grabbed her wrist.

"I… I want you to know that I wanted it. I just…"

Brittany smiled sweetly, "You don't have to explain anything to me. One day you'll be ready and then boom. It'll happen."

"You say that like you'll wait for me or something."

"I just might." Brittany shrugged, "I think you're worth it."

"I'm not."

Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana firmly on the lips, that warming sensation sliding down towards her core and she felt her knees weaken under her.

"You're worth more than you know, Santana Lopez." Brittany smiled sweetly, "Now, if you excuse me. I need to go upstairs and find some way to release myself because I swear if I don't leave now, I just might have my way with you."

"I just might let you." Santana whispered under her breath as Brittany got out of the car. She walked towards Santana's side and knocked on the window; Santana rolled it down with an arched eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say goodnight." Brittany said, in that mimicking tone Santana had grown used to.

"Goodnight, Britt."

"Goodnight, San."

Santana turned on the engine and drove home, getting to her apartment she went into her bottom drawer and took out an old friend she hadn't seen in a long time. She turned it on, the vibrations louder than she remembered, and released herself to the faint, miscommunicated images of Brittany – silently wishing for her own salvation from the nightmare she was living.


End file.
